My Own Life
by L0stM4ge
Summary: What if the reason Chelsea went aboard that ship that fateful day was because she was running from something? A story between Chelsea and Vaughn as she struggles to make a hard decision, along with the other villagers and three new characters.
1. Work

Vaughn walked into the restaurant and scowled. He didn't like the city very much at all. The flashing lights, the constant noise, and all of the people bustling from one place to the next. Still, a job was a job, and to even have work during winter was a blessing. Work slowed down for him in the ranches during winter, because it was considered too risky to move cows and sheep across sea in such cold temperatures. His need for money drove him to take a job transporting abandoned pets to a rescue shelter in the city. He glared at anyone on the street who gave him a funny look, which was frequent because city-goers weren't used to seeing cowboy attire. One woman even asked him if it was a costume; that was annoying. It was almost enough to make him miss Sunny Island. Almost.

He strode over to a small table at the corner of the restaurant where few people were sitting. He had asked his employer if she knew of any quiet places to eat. She had recommended this one to him. She said mostly people of upper-class ate here (as it was so expensive), so it wasn't often very crowded. He was surprised when she paid him the extra he would need to be able to afford it, but she said it was her way of thanking him for taking such a long trip off his usual route. He thanked her and left to find the place.

A waiter soon arrived to take his order. It was an Italian-style restaurant, so he ordered spaghetti and a glass of milk. The waiter smirked a bit at the latter, but left to have it prepared when Vaughn scowled at him. He leaned back in his chair and observed his surroundings. It was quiet for a Saturday night, a day he knew many city folk would take to go out to dinner or some sort of entertainment. What a bunch of lazy people, he thought to himself. There were a couple of families having diner together. Most of them were sitting by tables next to the window, looking out at the people walking along the street as they talked with each other. They were all very richly dressed. The men wore expensive suits, the women in elegant dresses. In the center of the restaurant was another woman sitting alone at a small table for two. He wasn't prepared for what he saw.

It was Chelsea. He hadn't recognized her at first because she wasn't wearing her usual blue jeans, yellow shirt and orange vest. In fact, he still wasn't sure if it was her. He finally decided that it must be, because he recognized her blue eyes and the way her bangs framed her face. The rest of her hair was tied back in a braided bun, along with black pearl earrings that hung down. The dress surprised him the most. She was wearing a long black dress that crisscrossed in the front that turned into a soft, fluid skirt as it went down. The dress had a single shoulder strap with a wisp of fabric that flowed down the back. Never in his wildest dreams (not that she ever entered his dreams) did he imagine her in such elegant clothing. He had always pictured her as a happy tomboy all too eager to play in the dirt with her crops and tend her animals in the pasture. This thought made him realize something else about her that was different; he had never seen her so depressed.

She was resting her head on her left hand as she traced her water glass with the index finger of the right. She gave out a long sigh and just looked miserably at the glass. Vaughn wondered what she could be doing in a place like this. He had heard that she had gone to the city on urgent business, leaving her animals in the temporary care of Mirabelle. She was always around to bother him with a hello or to deliver him milk from her farm, so he was surprised when he didn't see her on Wednesday. When he asked Mirabelle about it, she had told him about Chelsea's hasty departure, saying that she would be back by next week. Mirabelle also had a chocolate bar wrapped in a red ribbon behind the counter for him from Chelsea, who had asked to have it passed on in her absence. The actual day for Winter Thanksgiving was yesterday, two days after he received his gift, nonetheless he blushed and pulled his hat down over his eyes at the memory.

Suddenly Chelsea rose from her seat to greet someone coming towards her table. The woman approached her and they shook hands in a cool greeting. Chelsea seemed tense in the greeting, but the woman was nothing short of condescending. He decided that it must be Chelsea's mother. She had the same color hair as Chelsea, tied back in a bun so tight it looked as if it never hung down. Unlike Chelsea's eyes, hers were sharp and narrow, as if she looked at the world just to find things wrong with it. She was a slim woman with a skeletal appearance, her skin tightly stretched across her face. She was just as extravagantly dressed as Chelsea, if not more. She wore a black strapless dress that was slim and long, and a diamond necklace that spread from the neck to the top of the dress in a triangle of individual pieces woven together with silver.

They sat down at the table, and Vaughn couldn't help noticing the waiter trip over himself to take her order as quickly as possible. Vaughn smirked to himself; she must be a frequent and very well paying customer, and certainly not a woman who enjoyed waiting. The two began talking to each other. Even from the distance he was at, Vaughn could tell there was a lot of tension between the two. Chelsea seemed to be getting some sort of lecture from her mother that she had heard a hundred times before.

Before long Chelsea seemed to be tired of what she was hearing and put her forehead in her hand and shut her eyes tightly. The pained look on Chelsea's face made Vaughn act before he himself knew what he was doing. He got up from his table and strode over to them. They must have heard his boots on the floor, because they both looked up at him. The older woman gave him a very calculating look, but Chelsea's eyes widened in horror. Her lips quivered and he could see her silently mouth "Vaughn..." to herself.

She quickly recovered and straightened up. She addressed her mother with her eyes still on Vaughn. "Mother... this is Vaughn. He's—."

"I'm an animal trader for Sunny Island." Vaughn held out his hand to her. "It's nice to meet you, ma'am."

Chelsea's mother took his hand and shook it lightly, her narrowed eyes never leaving his. "A pleasure, I'm sure. As I'm sure my daughter has never mentioned me, I am Clarice Veronica de Rougue." Vaughn recognized the last name as the name of Chelsea's ranch. "And just how are you 'acquainted' with my daughter?" Chelsea bit her lip.

"She owns a ranch, and buys supplies from the shop I work for. We see each other on occasion." Vaughn said, unperturbed by the woman's cold greeting towards him.

"So Vaughn is it? What brings you to the city? You clearly look like you would be more comfortable in a rural setting," Clarice sneered. Chelsea shot her mother a dark look, another expression Vaughn had never seen on her.

"Work," Vaughn replied shortly. This scowl he did not have to force.

"I see. As intriguing as that is, I do believe I have lost my appetite for the evening, so I will take my leave. I'm sure you two have much to discuss. Chelsea," she said sharply to her daughter. "When you are done here you are to meet me in the hospital to visit your father. _We_ still have much to discuss, as well." Without waiting for a reply she glided out of the restaurant, roughly taking her coat from the attendant waiting at the door, leaving Vaughn and Chelsea alone.


	2. Chelsea

Upon her mother's exit, Chelsea put her head in her hands and sighed heavily. Vaughn took the seat previously occupied by her mother and stared at her silently. After a long pause, she finally spoke.

"I'm sorry about my mother, Vaughn." Chelsea said, still staring at the table.

"When were you going to tell me you were a little rich girl?" Vaughn asked, irritated to be left out of the loop for so long. He didn't care either way, but it bothered him to think he'd been going to the island for three seasons and was the only one who didn't know. It was irritating to him when other people knew more than he did. "You don't seem the type, always complaining about how much renovations cost. How long have you been lying to me?" He was starting to get angry.

"You're the only one who knows," Chelsea said. Vaughn raised his eyebrows in surprise, but kept his eyes half-lidded. She looked up at him and continued, "If anyone knows about my past, it's Natalie and her family, but all I've ever really told them is that I wanted to start fresh in a new life." A waiter came by and put Vaughn's spaghetti and milk on the table, mentioning to Chelsea that her food would be done shortly. Chelsea tried to smile, but it wasn't quite up to its usual exuberance. "I could tell you all about it, if you really want to know, but I doubt you'll want to listen to my voice for that long."

"I'll be here until I'm finished," Vaughn said, pointing down to his food. He took a bite and looked at Chelsea, giving her his full attention.

Chelsea knew Vaughn well enough to know that this was an invitation to speak. "You heard that I and Natalie's family were in a storm that sank our boat and washed us upon the shores of Sunny Island?" Vaughn nodded. "Well when I got on the boat, I didn't really care where I was going, so long as it was away from my parents. My family owns a very large fashion studio, where some of the most famous fashion designers come to display their designs. Ownership of the company is passed from generation to generation. Being the only child my parents ever had, I'm next in line to inherit the company."

Vaughn looked at her in surprise. Then he smirked a little to himself. To this Chelsea replied "I know what you're thinking, fashion isn't really my thing, right?"

Vaughn looked up about to agree, but seeing her elegantly dressed made him think twice. Instead he just stared at her, until Chelsea blushed and averted her gaze downward self-consciously. Just then the waiter returned with Chelsea's dinner; a plate of spaghetti and a glass of wine. Vaughn cocked an eyebrow at her, but she just waved her hand at him, mumbling something about a long day, and took a sip before continuing.

"Well, I was never interested in fashion. From an early age my parents bread me for the sole intent of taking over the company, doing everything they could think of and hoping I would gain interest with age. It finally came to the point I couldn't take it anymore, so I left very early one morning and crept to the docks to board a ship. I dressed in the plainest clothes I could think of, hoping they wouldn't recognize me if they came to find me that day. I was off to start a new life somewhere, anywhere else, but then we got caught in that storm, and before I knew it I was the rancher for Sunny Island.

"I was worried at first, because I had never done ANYTHING like farming before. But with Taro's teachings I started to get the hang of it, and everyone was always happy to see me. It was much different from the crowd my parents mingled in. I was… happy. Happier than I've ever been, I felt like nothing could tear down." For the first time that evening, Chelsea smiled as happily as she always would on the island. Then she laughed. "Even my animals are better friends to me than anyone I ever knew in my childhood." Vaughn smirked at this. He always thought animals were better company than people.

They sat in silence for awhile as they both ate their dinners. Chelsea would often look out the window, and Vaughn had a very difficult time not looking at her when she would look away. Before long they were both finished with the main course. Chelsea ordered chocolate fondue, smiling to the waiter and making small talk with him that they had the best in town. Vaughn was intrigued by this, and ordered one as well. It was Chelsea's turn to raise an eyebrow in surprise, to which Vaughn returned a scowl, so she just held her hands up defensively and said nothing, the slight trace of a smile on her lips.

While they waited, Vaughn spoke up. "That still doesn't explain what you're doing back here. This should be the last place you would be, if you weren't lying."

Chelsea sighed again and looked out the window. "I had hoped I would never have to come back." She turned and looked at him. "I never even told them that I survived the storm. I'm a bit ashamed of it, but I think for awhile I was hoping they would just assume I hadn't, and make their best employee the new heir. At first I wasn't too bothered by the thought of being found, but as the island started getting more popular, I started to get nervous." Vaughn recollected that she had been especially odd during his past few visits. She rested her chin on her right hand and gazed out at the streets.

"To answer your question, recently my father has recently gotten sick, and is in the hospital. Word of the island has reached the city, and my mother said she saw a report on the news about the island that mentioned the original settlers came from the ship I 'abandoned them' for. She called Natalie's house to confirm I was there, and left her with the message about my father. I left the island as soon as I had Mirabelle's promise to look after my animals. Since arriving though," she looked down, suddenly as distraught as before, "I wish I hadn't come."

Vaughn stared at her with curiosity, though it didn't show. She finally said in a small voice, "they want me to give up the farm and take my rightful place as heir to the company."

Vaughn slammed his fists on the table and almost stood up in anger. "You can't give the ranch up!" Vaughn yelled. "What will happen to the animals?!" Chelsea shushed him, and he sat back down, clearing his throat and tipping his had down. He only ever went to Sunny Island on Wednesdays and Thursdays, but every time without fail Chelsea would come and talk to him, even if only to say a short and perky hello as she scampered off somewhere. At first it was annoying to him, but he had become accustomed to seeing her on those days. Not being able to see her anymore had never occurred to him, and though he couldn't think why, it bothered him. "So what are you going to do?" he asked in a quieter voice, looking up at her.

Chelsea looked him straight in the eye with a determined look on her face. "I want to reject the position as I always have, of course, but—," she paused and looked down, "They've put me in a difficult position. My father's health has been steadily been getting worse over the years, and the doctor's have determined that he doesn't have much time left." An angry look crossed Chelsea's face, "He's been begging and pleading for me to take over, saying things like 'my soul will not rest in peace unless I know the company is still in the family' and even though they'd heard nothing of me for 3 and a half seasons they haven't found a different heir." She put her head in her hands again and looked more exhausted than Vaughn had ever seen her. At length she looked up again and tried to force a smile as she said to him, "But don't worry, Vaughn. No matter what I decide, I promise the animals the animals will be taken care of."

"Don't start talking like that," Vaughn said pointing his finger at her. "Start now and before tomorrow you'll have given up the ranch. Give up that ranch and I will never forgive you," he finished, scowling at her. Chelsea just gave him a little smile.

The chocolate fondue finally arrived and they ate in silence. It reminded Vaughn of Winter Thanksgiving and the chocolate bar Chelsea had left for him. He pulled his hat down, embarrassed, and without looking at her said, "Mirabelle gave me the chocolate. Thanks." Had Vaughn dared to look up again he would have seen Chelsea beaming at him. They finished their desert and Chelsea paid for them both. Vaughn protested this, but relented when Chelsea pulled out a gold card and explained that her parents had told her to use it for all her expenses, and with an evil grin said it would give her great pleasure to rack up the bill. Vaughn didn't like the idea of a woman paying for his meal, but he reasoned that he needed all the money he could get, and after all she _had_ offered.

They left the restaurant together. On the way out, one of the waiters came to express how nice it was so nice to see "Young Miss Rougue" in town again. Vaughn turned away and chuckled under his breath, but Chelsea ignored him and thanked the man for the compliment. The doorman returned her wrap, and she waved goodbye amiably.

Once outside, Chelsea went to the street side to hail a cab. Vaughn didn't feel comfortable with Chelsea being out alone so late in the city looking like such an easy target to mug, but expressed it by saying "So now I suppose you want me to go with you to make sure you get home okay. Well I'm too busy and I doubt I'm in the same hotel you are."

Chelsea smiled and replied, "Gee, thanks for being concerned, but I wasn't going to ask. Anyway, I'm off to the hospital before visiting hours are over." A cab drove past and Chelsea clucked her tongue.

Vaughn looked down at her, finally, more sincerely asking, "You sure you're going to be ok?"

In a casual tone Chelsea said, "Oh don't worry, before I left I took my sickle's head off of the pole and put it in my purse." Vaughn made a choking sound and quickly turned away, pulling his hat down to hide the smile that comment brought to his lips. A cab finally arrived and Chelsea got in, but not before assuring him that she would be back at the farm before next Wednesday. Vaughn made an "hmph" sound and mumbled that he didn't care either way. The cab drove off and Vaughn walked in the other direction towards the docks.


	3. Hospital

Chelsea stared out the window of the cab as she rode to the hospital. She wondered what Vaughn could be doing in the city; he certainly didn't seem the type to enjoy the city life. She remembered his curt response to her mother, and conceded that work probably was the only thing that _could _bring Vaughn to the city, and left it at that. Her mind soon wandered to the subject that had tormented her since her arrival on Tuesday about four days ago; the ultimatum her parents had given her about the company.

When she had first arrived, concern and anxiety had driven her to see her father as soon as possible, hoping that his condition wasn't too serious. When the doctor told her he didn't have much longer to live, she nearly had a panic attack in the hospital lobby. Her father suffered from chronic lymphocytic leukemia (CLL), an illness that distorted the blood cells and made the person more prone to sickness. CLL was, of course, chronic and a person with it could hope to live between three and twenty years. Her father had been first diagnosed with CLL very early in her life, and in the past few years had been getting steadily worse. Her first impression upon seeing her father shocked her: he was pale, thin, and suffering from a cold, made more severe by the leukemia. His hair which was once a lush dark brown now had strips of gray mingled in, and his brown eyes seemed faded as well. Her mother promptly spent the next half hour finding ways to blame her daughter for her father's deteriorating condition.

Worry soon turned to panic and uncertainty when both of her parents had proceeded to tell her that there still wasn't another heir to the company, and that they fully expected her to take over. Continuing to raise crops and animals on a farm was, of course, totally unacceptable. They each expressed their points differently: her mother in irritated and accusing tones, and her father in pleading almost pitiful mannerisms. For four days they continued relentlessly to make their point and get her off this 'escapade' they called her farm. Worry had long been replaced by annoyance and this Saturday would be no different. The cab pulled up to the front of the hospital, and with a sigh, Chelsea pulled her wrap closer about her. She paid the driver, slid out of the cab and walked inside towards the elevators.

* * *

Vaughn stood on the docks and stared out at the ocean. He leaned against a pile and crossed his arms to keep warm. The sun was setting over the ocean and the waves were all but nonexistent. Good, he thought to himself, it was always easier to keep the animals relaxed during a voyage when the sea was calm. This time around they wouldn't have animals on the boat, but a smooth trip was always preferable to a rough, storm-battering. The sea could be as calm as it could be ruthless. Peering out into the ocean, his mind wandered back to the restaurant, and Chelsea.

He was still taken aback at seeing her and in an evening gown no less. He would never admit it openly, but there was no denying that Chelsea had a pretty face. He just never considered that the rest of her could be so…. He stopped that thought in its tracks. Chelsea was attractive, but he wasn't interested in her that way. If anything, she was a friend. Yes, he thought to himself, he had never been close to anyone, but Chelsea was one of the few people he could consider a friend. She, Julia, and Mirabelle were the people he could be most at ease with. Maybe even Denny, from time to time, when he wasn't being so annoying.

Chelsea's origins still surprised him. Everyone had a past of some sort, but hers was so outlandish, so opposite of everything he thought he knew about her that even now it was hard to believe. But then, considering how much she was vehemently against her parents wishes for her, he could understand why she wouldn't want to bring it up in her new life. After all, how many people could get such a fresh start in life by being washed up on an island after a storm? He smirked to himself at the idea.

He pondered whether he should tell the inhabitants of Sunny Island about Chelsea's past, but decided against it. It wasn't any of his business, and in revealing her past he would have to explain that he had seen her, and he wasn't ready to admit that (or HOW) he had seen her. No, Chelsea would be back to the island before he was, and he trusted her to tell them. As for her giving up the ranch, that was out of the question. She was the closest thing the island had to a government fund, the support beam for all the progress the island had made. He would lecture her about that when he returned to the island. The sun had set, and the captain of the transport called out that they were ready to sail. Vaughn slung his sack over his shoulder and boarded the vessel.

* * *

Clarice glared at her daughter as she appeared outside of her husband's room. Chelsea returned the cold gaze and walked forward. Her father gave her a weak smile that she returned. Franklin Marc de Rougue knew that his daughter never had the inspiration for the fashion world. Yes, she did have a good eye, and with the proper teaching she had learned what he knew from instinct about fashion. The company would not suffer from her management, and might even excel past what he had built, but he also knew she would be miserable. They had never intended to only have one child for just such a reason. They had tried three times after Chelsea was born, but they had all been miscarriages. Not too long after the third he had been diagnosed, and from then on had very little energy in him to try again. Were it up to him he would not force his daughter into ownership. His wife, however, had other plans.

The contract for the company was written thus: the company would pass from the parents to the child deemed most suitable to succeed. If, on the last child-owner's death (which was him), had no children deemed suitable to succeed, the company would pass to his or her spouse until the board voted on a new owner. The last part was what Clarice felt threatened by. If her daughter became the owner of the company, she could have just as much of a hand in it as she always had. But if her daughter did not accept responsibility for the company, she would only be allowed to keep ownership until a successor was chosen by the board, and then she would be out. Franklin had no worries about her being unable to support herself; they had already earned and saved enough that she could live comfortably for the rest of her life, even with her extravagant tendencies. It was the power that Clarice did not want to relinquish. She enjoyed being in the spotlight of the fashion world. She had been a model in her youth, which was how they met. Franklin looked over towards his daughter and his wife, as they continued arguing.

"You could easily become a member of the board, Mother," Chelsea reasoned. "They've said countless times that they've always valued your opinion, and that they would be more than happy to create another position on the board for you if I didn't inherit. So what if someone else takes over?!"

"This company has been in your father's family for countless generations. How dare you try to tear down the all the hard work of your ancestors! You would throw away everything your family has built for the sake of a silly little ranch. You probably don't make as much on that farm in a month that this company makes in a day. A day, Chelsea!" His wife's voice was shrill and increased in intensity with every sentence. Chelsea tried to remind her they were in a hospital, which Clarice waved aside.

Franklin sighed. She had been so lovely once. When they had first met she was a pleasant woman, even sweet at times. The stress of having a daughter who was her polar opposite in opinion and desire for fashion had changed her over the years. He was sure she had always had the belief that money bought happiness, but it had become her personal mantra over the years of trying to convince her daughter of it. He knew his wife's desire for Chelsea to inherit the company was purely for selfish reasons, but he loved her, so for years he had taken her side. Besides that, his wife scared him, and easily manipulated his opinion where their daughter was concerned. He wanted to support his daughter's desire to live her own life, and even expressed this to his wife on several occasions, but in the end she won the argument and as always he went along with what she wanted.

He turned to Chelsea and held out his hand, which she rushed to his side to hold, and she smiled at him. Despite being aggravated by their continued argument about inheritance, her smile was warmer than it used to be. This made him smile, too. She seemed happier than she had been before she disappeared, and he wondered if working the farm had a healing affect on her soul. Than he sighed, ashamed at what he was about to do, but he had a duty to his wife, and even to his family lineage. "Chelsea, I know you've heard this a dozen times, but please, the company needs to be reassured that it will be in capable hands before I pass on."

Chelsea waved her free hand at this. "Being of your blood doesn't give me magical insight for what the company needs." Her mother scoffed at this, but Chelsea ignored her. "You and I both know I don't have the desire or the natural instinct for it. Trained instinct is more accurate. I've seen many employees at the studio who have a much better talent for it than I do."

"What about the name of the company, did you ever think of that?!" Clarice suddenly chimed in angrily. "The name is _Rougue Studios._ Our last name. What will it be changed to if we are no longer in control? What will _we_ be if we are no longer in control?"

"A company does not define a person. If anything it's the other way around." Chelsea snapped back. "Besides the name itself would not change, it's already too well known and the company well understands that changing that name now would only cause confusion." She slapped her left fist in her right palm very comically and said, "I know! Why don't we adopt a young kid with a good fashion sense? I'm sure there are some local orphanages around here." She pointed her right index finger and closed her left eye. "We'll make a little kid's dreams come true, do some good by giving them a home, and then the company can stay within the family." She clapped her hands. "There now, it's all settled." And with that, she giggled. Franklin smiled inwardly to himself. Twenty years being trained for the company, and in only 3 short seasons away she was finally coming out of her shell. For the umpteenth time that week, shame enveloped him.

"This is no laughing matter, Chelsea!" Clarice's voice rang. Then she calmed slightly and folded her arms over her chest. "And in any case, I doubt we would find any abandoned children with fashion sense. Why do you think they are abandoned?" Franklin winced and Chelsea scowled. "And suppose we were to take a new child under our wing and raise them? Do you know how long it would take to teach them all they needed to know? It would take years, years your father no longer has, years that we apparently wasted on you." Clarice's scowl deepened as she stared at her disappointing daughter. How she had birthed a child so unlike her she would never know.

Chelsea stood and looked her mother straight in the eye. "Well that's just about the only way you're going to keep the company within the family, because I'm not going to do it."

Though she spoke with determination, there was a flicker of doubt in her eyes that her mother knew she could exploit, if she pulled at the right strings. There were a lot of things she disliked about her daughter, but one trait she knew was deeply ingrained in her was a loyalty to her family. It was what had kept her steadfast in her place for twenty years. Had it not been for that storm, they would have found her and she would have been back home within a week. She was even more irritated when she thought about the fact that Chelsea had made no attempt to let them know she was alive, and doing grunge work above all things!

"You are our only child, Chelsea," she began, "and the only one your father trusts the company with. For years we taught you everything you needed to know to keep it going, preparing you for just such a case as this. We've known for a long time now that your father was sick, and that his life expectancy was cut down to less than it should be." Chelsea looked to her father. "Your unfortunate disappearance three seasons ago has accelerated his weakened state—."

"Father has been getting worse for the past few years now and you know it!" Chelsea admonished.

"I will not be interrupted," Clarice glowered. "He was never in so poor a condition that he was bedridden in a hospital as he now." Chelsea looked down at the floor sadly, and Clarice smiled. "Would you deny a dying man, nay your father, his last wish and refuse your inheritance?"

Chelsea sighed deeply and moved over to the windows and for awhile said nothing. Finally, her shoulders sank as she said, "I still don't like the idea of taking over the company, but this is something I'm going to have to give some serious thought. I can't just up and leave the farm, and I have no intention of canceling my departure on Tuesday." Clarice narrowed her eyes at her daughter. It was a better answer than before, but it wasn't quite the one she wanted. She would have to push harder.

"Very well," Clarice said at length. "I will take my leave for the evening while you spend some time with your father. I'm sure he has something he wants to tell you as well." With this Clarice left the room, but not before giving her husband a stern look.

Franklin watched her go, and then stared at the ceiling. Maybe Chelsea's idea, though mostly meant to be a joke, wasn't a bad one after all. He knew he wouldn't be around long enough to teach him or her like he had Chelsea, but forcing the company on her didn't seem to be in the company's best interest either. Having a CEO who hated the job and had no passion for it? That was how other companies had met their demise. He looked towards the windows at his dejected daughter, unsure of how more of this she could take until her mother finally broke her spirit and bent her to her will. He knew his wife would be angry, but he could bear lying to his daughter no longer. For once in his life, he wanted to do right by her.

"Chelsea…" he said weakly. She quickly hastened to his side and pulled up a chair to sit next to him. Once again she smiled. Even though he had pushed her like her mother had, he had never been harsh about it, and deep down she knew that he only wanted what was best for her.

"Chelsea," he said again. He held his hand out, which she covered with both of hers. "Forget what your mother has been saying for a moment and listen to me now." Chelsea looked at him in surprise. Yes, he would do right by his beautiful daughter. "What I really want is for you to be happy. I would be thrilled if inheriting the company would bring you that happiness, but something tells me that it would not. Do what makes you happy. Live—," he was suddenly cut off by a spasm of coughs that racked his frame, and he shook violently but could not get them under control. Chelsea steadied him and watched him worriedly, but a pair of nurses rushed in and ushered her out of the room, saying he needed to rest and that visiting hours were over for the day. She hesitated for a moment, wanting to know what he was going to say, but reluctantly obeyed and left the hospital.

What her father said kept her awake all night as she tried to recall every word and derive their meaning. For the next day and a half she visited him constantly, visiting whenever her mother was NOT, and tried to ask him about it. He was usually either asleep, or being seen by the doctor for tests. Save from those moments she had with him were shared with her mother, and they both knew they couldn't speak of it in front of her. The most they could do was look into each other's eyes, and pray to speak telepathically. Before long it was Sunday night and Chelsea had to board the ship that would take her back to Sunny Island by Tuesday morning. For Chelsea, that departure couldn't come soon enough, but she wished she knew the rest of her father's message to her.


	4. Furniture Fiasco

Chelsea stood on deck and took a deep breath. It was so good to be in fresh air again, to smell the salt of the sea, and to see Sunny Island's not-too-distant shore. She was very happy to think that she would be seeing everyone again very soon. She missed Natalie, Elliot, Taro, and Felicia, the family who had all but adopted her (something she kept very fondly in her heart). Julia was always a wonderful friend, and fun to talk to, and Mirabelle, her short, stout and friendly mother whom she was also fond of. She could already see Denny's purple bandana by the shore, and laughed as she saw Lanna bouncing up the beach with a fishing pole. She thought of Pierre, Shea and his uncle Wada, Sabrina and her crazy father Regis, Charlie and Chen, Gannon and his cute little daughter Eliza, of Alisa and Nathan, and wondered how they were all doing. Each new person she brought to mind filled her with more happiness until she felt like herself again. Or at least, the self she had become since arriving on the Island. Finally, she thought of Vaughn, and wondered if he was still thinking of her. She shook that thought out of her head. She knew she was only a friend to him, and that in itself was a greater achievement than expanding the barn.

It was then that she noticed boxes and bits of furniture lined up along the shore, awaiting the boat that was bringing her home. Home, she giggled happily to herself. Some of the furniture looked familiar, but she didn't think anything of it. With the island's limited resources, many people had identical pieces of furniture, such as beds and chairs.

The boat finally docked and she stepped onto the shore. Lanna was absorbed in her fishing, so instead she waved to Denny. He waved back and gave a weak smile, but she could tell that he was a bit sad. She wondered at this, but supposed it to be that Lanna was probably out-fishing him again. She giggled and set off towards Natalie's house, resolved in revealing her past first to the people she should have told in the beginning. Luckily Natalie was already awake, and walking in her direction. Chelsea smiled and waved, calling out "Hey, it's good to see you again. I saw a bunch of furniture on the beach, is someone else moving in?"

Natalie stopped abruptly in front of her and put her hands angrily on her hips. "Is that suppose to be some sort of joke?!" she yelled. When Chelsea just looked at her dumbfounded, she continued. "No one's moving in, someone's moving out. You are!" She said, jabbing a finger at her. "And why didn't you tell us that you were the daughter of a famous fashion company. Honestly you never looked the type, but with Pierre around you can't really judge just by looks. These people came here yesterday and proceeded to move all of your things out of your house. They've been saying that you were moving back to the city and were taking everything there for you to sort out." Chelsea's fists had clenched and she was bowing lower and lower with rage, but Natalie, never seeing this side of her before, took no notice and continued. "I doubt you really need to take the bed off of the island though. And furthermore, you can't just up and leave without giving us any warning. I mean, I know you a big important person and all, well at least NOW I do, thanks for the heads up by the way, but the island depends on that farm, and—."

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!!!" Natalie stepped back in surprise as Chelsea's anger finally exploded in full force.

The raging, single worded question rang so loud throughout the island, anyone who was asleep was now awake, birds took flight from their nests in the forest, the Witch Princess thought her latest spell had gone awry to cause an earthquake, and even the Goddess peeked up from her pond to see what was wrong.

* * *

"It was absolutely hilarious, I couldn't stop laughing all day," Vaughn heard Natalie say to Julia as he walked through the doors of Mirabelle's store. They were sitting in stools in front of the counter as they chatted. He walked up to the counter and leaned against it, lifting his hand to the brim of his hat in a hello.

"Hey, Cowboy," Natalie said.

"Hello, Vaughn," Julia replied with a smile.

"So anyway, like I was saying about Chelsea," Natalie continued. Vaughn's ears perked up, but he listened with his eyes closed. "It was an absolute riot. After her outburst she marched straight off to her farm, where she found a dozen of employees for her family's company moving more stuff out of her house." Vaughn froze and his heart skipped a beat, but showed no reaction. "I'd never seen her so angry before. Come to think of it," Natalie mused, "I've never seen her angry at all."

"It's still so surprising to find out she was the daughter of such a famous family company," Julia said. "I never pictured her the type. I thought they were all snobby upper class people who hardly spoke to anyone. To think she's to inherit the whole company, it's incredible." Julia placed her chin in her hands as she leaned on the counter. "And if that weren't astonishing enough, she actually turned her parents down. I heard the employees whispering to each other that her mother was quite furious about it."

"It's not set in stone that she's not to inherit," Natalie said, waggling her finger. "She said that unless another was found, she's still technically the heir. She also said she was still trying to work out an alternative plan her mother would be satisfied with." Vaughn doubted there was one, remembering the thin, condescending woman. Suddenly Natalie giggled, "Do you remember the threats she was belting out yesterday? Even I don't know that many ways to insult a person. Haha, I've remembered a couple I want to use on Elliot sometime."

Julia sighed and frowned. "You should really stop picking on your older brother. It only makes him more unconfident in himself."

Natalie waved that aside, "Nah, it's good for him, builds character. And if he were a man he could stand up to them. Do you remember the one about the chickens?" Natalie banged her hand on the table with laughter, and even Julia giggled. Natalie mimicked, "'if so much as one spoon is left behind, I'll pour red paint on the lot of you and let the chickens peck you half to death!'" They both began to laugh again.

Just then Denny burst through the front down, looking exhausted. Still out of breath, he walked over to the counter and said hello each of them. Again Vaughn touched the brim of his hat.

"Hey, Fisherman," said Natalie.

"Hello, Denny," said Julia. "What brings you to our shop?"

"It's the only shop nearby that's not next to the crossroad," he replied, looking nervous. "Actually, I was wondering if you would let me hide in here for a bit."

"Hide?" asked Julia perplexed. "What could you possibly need to hide from?"

"Chelsea!" said Denny, waving his hands in the air. They all looked at him in surprise. "She's at it again; she's a madwoman I tell you! Even _women_ have no fury compared to Chelsea's scorn right now. Those guys had a day ahead of her to take her stuff to the shore, so she's still ushering them back and forth to put things back. But it's worse now," Denny sighed and gave a shrug. "They're trying to sneak other things in."

Just then Mirabelle came over from the back and put three glasses of milk on the table. Seeing Denny, she asked him if he would like one as well, but he declined. With a smile and a wave, Mirabelle headed out the back to see the animals and to leave the kids alone to chat. As she left, Vaughn picked up his glass of milk, and Natalie turned to Denny.

"Sneak things in? Things like what?" Natalie asked, intrigued. Even Vaughn looked interested.

Denny started to count things off of his fingers, "Oh, things like a pink bed with flowery sheets, a glass table, a full cart of evening gowns, a mirror the size of a wall, and even a bunch of posters with different models on them going down runways in her family's studio." Denny put his finger on his chin and looked up in thought. "There were even a couple of posters with her on the runway. I almost didn't recognize her." Natalie chortled and Vaughn choked on the milk he had been trying to down. "I guess she must have modeled some when she was younger," he finished.

The sound of someone yelling outside grabbed their attention. Natalie, Julia, and Vaughn all went outside to see, while Denny just peeked above the swinging doors, using them like a shield. They came outside in time to hear another one of Chelsea's threats.

"Yes, I am holding an axe, and I've gotten pretty good at wielding it these past few seasons. If I see that pink bed roll through here one more time I will _start_ sharpening it on the frame before bringing it down upon the lot of you!"

Vaughn crossed his arms and smirked. Julia giggled into her right hand. Natalie had to support her hands on her knees from laughing so hard. "So un-positive," said Denny sheepishly from the protection of his doors. People peered out from the local shops and in, watching the ant-line of furniture to and from the farm. Gannon was the only one brave enough to approach Chelsea, who gave him a happy smile when he stood beside her. By Gannon's gestures they could tell he was offering to lend a hand. Chelsea shook her head and an evil grin appeared on her face as she spoke. Whatever she said spooked Gannon, because he hastily bowed and retreated to his shop. She reached for him and seemed to try to apologize, then slammed her head in her hand.

Turning, she saw the three staring at her in the distance. Laughing nervously she gave them an embarrassed wave. Natalie was still doubled over in laughter, but managed to beckon with exaggerated arm movements for Chelsea to come over. Denny made a protesting sound and ran to hide behind the counter. Chelsea closed the distance and Julia gave her a hug.

"Rough day?" Julia asked smiling.

"You could say that," Chelsea replied as she smiled weekly. She turned to look back at the procession of furniture. "My mother has done some pretty low down things before, but trying to move me off of the island without _telling _me is a new one. It's a good thing I only have the animals to worry about. I have a feeling this is going to take all day. I'm going to have a lot of apologizing to do when this is all sorted out, starting with Denny I think. I know he's in there by the way. SORRY, DENNY!" she called. They heard a bang and the sound of something falling to the floor. All three girls winced.

"What did you say to scare Gannon off?" Vaughn asked.

"Well…," Chelsea began a bit uncomfortably. "I of course thanked him for his offer, but one of my plans for the employees was to sick my dog after them, and since I knew Gannon didn't like dogs I didn't want him to get caught in the middle of that. Next thing I knew he broke out into a cold sweat and retreated into his shop." Chelsea smiled and shrugged helplessly.

"I wish she had tried this sooner. It's been an absolute riot!" Natalie said, still not fully recovered from her amusement.

"Well I'm glad someone's enjoying this," Chelsea replied, though she looked amused as well.

"So tell me, were you always like this before you came to live on Sunny Island?" Natalie asked. "Always yelling at people what to do, I mean."

"Actually, it was the other way around," answered Chelsea. "I rarely said anything at all." Vaughn looked up, and Julia cocked her head. "I was never happy as a child, or even a young adult. I was raised knowing I was destined to inherit something I never wanted, and no matter how I protested they never listened. So, after awhile, I just stopped talking all together. Maybe I was hoping they would forget about me." The girls looked at her sadly, but Chelsea just laughed. "I just sat in the corner and tried to blend into the wall."

Julia giggled, and Natalie teased, "And just how did you attempt this? Wearing solid black?"

Chelsea tried to look up innocently and said, "Well I did have a few dresses that just happened to match the wallpaper in the house." All three girls laughed.

"Well, I'm sure Lanna will be happy," Julia said, ever the positive thinker. "She'll absolutely love those dresses we saw earlier."

"Oh-ho no, those aren't staying," Chelsea answered back, waggling a finger. Then she put her hands on her hips. "Can you honestly imagine me doing farm work in an evening gown?" Vaughn cleared his throat and pulled his hat lower, and something else fell down from behind the counter.

"No, of course not," Julia giggled. "But you could use them for other things, couldn't you? I mean, the Starry Night Festival is coming up soon, and I'm sure you'd be glad to have them for a date or something."

Chelsea cocked an eyebrow and smiled. "You know I don't have any time for dating. I'm far too busy rebuilding the ranch and supplying the town with funds." Then she sighed and shrugged her shoulders, "Besides, allowing the dresses to stay would only give my mother false hope. She honestly thinks that if I have these things around me I'll change my mind."

"Well, if you really don't want them around, you'd better tell that man over there," Natalie responded as she pointed to a man looking about wildly as he ran with the cart towards the farm.

Chelsea clenched her fists and gave them an overly happy smile that only spelled trouble as she excused herself. As she stormed towards the furniture traffic she could be heard yelling, "Apparently my mother pays you well and beyond your human instinct of self-preservation. Take that cart back to the boat now, or so help me I'll buy a bull for the farm, order all the helpers present to accompany my mother to the island for a visit, and put you all in the same pen with it!"


	5. Animals

It took them until four in the afternoon to finally finish moving everything back, even though she had them start at the crack of dawn. Chelsea personally stood on the shore to make sure they all boarded the transport and left the island. The last thing she needed was one of her mother's spies staying on the island. As soon as the boat was far enough away from shore for any of them to think about swimming back to shore, she made her way back to the ranch. It was amazing how paranoid she had become in just a short week. She laughed at herself.

Yesterday when she had arrived, and started the employees on taking all of her stuff back, instead of making them work all night, she gave them the evening off. Not out of kindness towards them, and in fact she was still worried about what they could have been up to, but to go around the island telling a few key people about her past. Now that her parents knew she was alive, there was really no point in keeping it a secret, and Chelsea felt they had a right to know. After Natalie's family was Julia's, since she was right next door, and from there she headed straight towards Lanna's. If anyone could spread the message around the island in next to no-time, it was the former pop star. Lanna was happy to comply with the request, and immediately set off to spread the news to anyone she saw. Chelsea had also made it a point to tell Mark. As much as she didn't want to think it a possibility, if something happened and she needed to leave, Mark was next in line to accept the farm from her, eager as he was to learn all about the trade.

But now the whole house-invasion fiasco was over, she could finally properly attend to her animals on the farm. She wasn't able to see them until very late that day, and all of her animals were already asleep. Upon entering the barn saw a note left by Mirabelle stating that she had taken care of them an extra day, seeing how busy Chelsea had been with everything. The note also said that she was happy to hear that Chelsea wasn't in fact moving. She smiled to herself; she would have to thank Mirabelle somehow. She would bring some yogurt over tomorrow. Then she thought about Denny. She felt really bad for scaring the man out of his own home from all her yelling. She had better bring some sashimi over to his house tomorrow as well.

Chelsea reached her ranch and walked into the stable. Argan her stallion whinnied happily to see her, and she gave him a good brushing and checked his hooves. She didn't see her dog anywhere, so she decided to come back after checking the other animals. Next was the chicken coop. She walked in to find them already fed and the eggs were gone. She smiled as she thought of Mirabelle; she must have come over today as well to take care of the animals again. Well, two jars of yogurt then. She cuddled each of her four chickens in turn, and they seemed to be happy to see her. Either way, she was happy to see them, and told each of them so. She got up and headed towards the barn. Chelsea figured that Mirabelle had already taken care of them as well, but she missed their company, and wanted to give each of them a big hug.

Excited, Chelsea rushed into the barn and ran straight into someone inside the barn who held her shoulders to steady her. She looked up to see Vaughn staring back at her.

"Oh, I'm sorry Vaughn, I didn't see you there." Chelsea said.

"Obviously," Vaughn replied.

Chelsea smiled. She had known him for too long to be put off so easily anymore. She gave him a questioning look. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

Vaughn looked back at the cattle and said, "Mirabelle asked me if I would come over and feed your animals for you. You really should have done it first thing in the morning, you know. And you're relying too much on Mirabelle to care for your animals. They're your responsibility," he said pointing his finger at her.

Chelsea gave him a sad smile and replied, "You're right. I have been relying on Mirabelle too much lately, but then, everyone needs help sometimes." Vaughn pondered this. Chelsea looked at her cattle and smiled at all four of them. "I've really missed seeing all of them. It will be first thing in the morning with my animals, just like before."

Suddenly a little bundle jumped up into Chelsea's arms and barked. It was Spark, and she was really happy to see Chelsea. Chelsea cried out in delight and nuzzled her dog. Vaughn smiled and said, "She's been following me everywhere since I got on the property." Chelsea smiled back at him and set Spark on the ground. She winked at him, and in the next minute she was by her first cow's side and giving her a fierce hug. Spark was happily dancing in circles about her, and the rest of the cattle came over for their share of hugs. She began telling them of her terrible time in the city and about how much she had missed them all.

Vaughn smiled to himself. Despite his harsh words earlier, he knew that she took good care of them. It was apparent in how they greeted her. There was a gleam in her eye as she spoke to each of them. He decided the rest of his lecture could wait until later, and turned to leave.

"Wait, Vaughn," he turned to see Chelsea's arm stretched out towards him. Then she pulled back and looked at the ground. "I want to thank you, somehow… for everything." Vaughn did not miss the implication. She looked up at him, "How about I bring you a tank of milk tomorrow?"

Vaughn looked at her and replied, "I'm sure you would be doing that anyway." Chelsea smiled and so did he. "See you tomorrow," and with a touch to the brim of his hat, he walked out of the barn.

Once he was out the door Chelsea sat down in the circle her cows had made and as Spark curled up in her lab began to tell them all about her miserable time in the city. She was so absorbed in her tale that she didn't notice that Vaughn had not gone far and was listening, too. He chuckled at her version of her mother, whom she'd called "The Wicked Witch of the City." He was surprised when she got to the part with him in it (surprised she mentioned it at all), and spoke with such enthusiasm that he soon felt embarrassed and decided that it was a good time to head to the diner for something to eat.

Chelsea opened the door and Spark bounded inside of the house. Spark wasn't often interested in being confined to the house, but after Chelsea had been gone for so long, Spark was determined to keep an eye on her, at least until she was certain that Chelsea wasn't going anywhere again. Besides, following Chelsea was a lot of fun. She decided that she would do it tomorrow, too.

Chelsea watched Spark sniff around the furniture with amusement until something in the corner caught her eye that made her scowl. Those sneaky dirt bags! There in the right corner of her house, shoved up next to the cabinet was the cart of evening gowns. How on this island had they managed to sneak that past her? Chelsea let out a heavy sigh. Well, Lanna would be happy to have them, she was sure. She would take the cart over sometime tomorrow, when it was dark.

Chelsea headed for her bed as Spark went to sniff all the different dressed on the cart. After awhile, she reached her verdict and growled at the cart. "Good girl," said Chelsea.


	6. Friends for Lunch

Vaughn got up an hour before dawn and stretched in his bed. The bunks at the inn weren't the most comfortable in the world, but they weren't the worst, either. He carefully sat up in his bed and pulled his jeans on. He quickly took off his night shirt and shivered a little as he pulled on his long black sleeve and fastened the buttons. He put his feet in his boots to keep them warm, tucked his shirt in and slung his belt. Vaughn opened his sling bag and pulled out his gloves and his bandanna, slipping or tying them on. Finally he reached for his vest and hat, which he hung on the post of the bed, and left the room. Outside of the inn, he strode off towards Mirabelle's, rubbing his arms to warm himself up.

When he arrived at the Shop, Mirabelle was already bouncing around the shop setting things up, as Julia did her best to wake herself with a cup of tea. He said hello to them both, talking with each of them briefly, then head out back to tend the animals. He took his time, making sure that each animal was happy and had shelter from the cold; they were in the middle of winter and it was especially chilly that day.

He finished around noon and was looking forward to the glass of milk Mirabelle always gave him when he heard voices inside. He walked inside in time to hear Chelsea finish saying, "…just came back from delivering Denny some fresh sashimi." She turned as she heard the door and waved cheerily. Then she winked and pointed to a tank of milk at the other side of the room with a red ribbon tied around it. He touched the brim of his hat both to say hello and to hide his blush at remembering Winter Thanksgiving. He wondered if she had been thinking of it, too, until he saw a jar of yogurt on the counter with a red ribbon around it, too.

"Oh, you're just in time, Vaughn," Mirabelle said cheerfully. "Chelsea just stopped by to deliver us some thank you gifts for caring for her animals."

"Yup," said Julia. "She brought over two jars of yogurt and four spa-boiled eggs."

Chelsea turned on her stool and smiled, holding up a basket that had the eggs inside. "Since I finished with my animals a bit before noon, I thought it would be nice to bring lunch over as a thank you. The other fresh milk tank is in the kitchen. I thought hot milk would be better if we warmed it here. But that one in the corner is all yours."

Vaughn's eyes widened. "Th-Thank you…," he said.

"But Chelsea, all of this combined is your entire income for the day," Julia protested, having counted all of the milk and egg products. "Are you sure you want to use it all on us?"

"Of course I do!" Chelsea admonished. "If it weren't for all of you in the first place, I wouldn't have had any of this right now. It's the least I can do, and I feel you deserve it for all the trouble of last week. Right, Vaughn?"

"That's… not what I meant last night." Vaughn responded quietly.

Chelsea giggled. "I know it isn't, but I decided to do this for a multitude of reasons. Being in the city I was reminded of some things in my past, like having very few people I was close with. It reminded me all the more how much everyone means to me on this island. I should make an effort to spend more time with friends while my work is still slow and I don't also have crops to tend. Besides," she said, "there are other ways to make money in winter, and I won't be too much worse off for missing one day of shipping. I won't have any more protests, let's go eat!"

They all moved into the kitchen, Vaughn and Chelsea taking the stools from the front and setting them at the table. Julia poured cups of now hot milk for everyone, while Mirabelle passed loafs of bread around the table. They ate happily, Julia and Chelsea making most of the conversation, with a few tidbits from Mirabelle and comments from Vaughn. Overall it was a pleasant meal. After they finished eating they sat around the table and chatted. Julia kept asking Chelsea questions about the city and about her parents, where she went and if she bought anything new. Chelsea answered all of her questions happily and even admitted to buying a CD-player and Lanna's hit single, which got a giggle out of Julia. Vaughn was very relieved that she made no mention of seeing him in the city. It would have opened up a series of questions directed at him, which he did not really feel like answering. Eventually the conversation moved to the upcoming Starry Night Festival.

"You couldn't really see any stars in the city. I'm really looking forward to the festival this year," sighed Chelsea.

"Yes, I agree," answered Julia. "I've seen many beautiful Starry Night Festivals, but this will be our first one on the island. I'm so excited."

Mirabelle turned to Chelsea and said, "Chelsea, dear, you must have lived very extravagantly in the city." Chelsea nodded. "You must have had more than a family dinner, but a family feast! Oh, I can only imagine what it must have been like."

"You mean more food than anyone at the table could possibly eat, my mother commenting on how everything she tried could taste so much better in 'enter country here' and then going off to a party full of adults as charming as my mother," Chelsea chided with a bored expression on her face. "They were extravagant affairs to be sure, but that didn't mean they were enjoyable. New Years were pretty much the same, too."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, dear. I'm sure this year will be much better. Every Starry Night Festival Julia asks me to make one of her favorites, and the rule we have is that I have to try to make it." Mirabelle smiled happily. "But without exception, desert is always Yogurt with Strawberries." Julia smiled and hummed in anticipation for the festival only four days away. Mirabelle turned to Vaughn. "Vaughn, did your family have any traditions for the festival?"

Vaughn squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. Mirabelle and Julia were very close to him, and though he had meant to, he had yet to tell them about this aspect of his past. Well, now that he was on the spot he might as well get it over with. He just wished Chelsea didn't have to be there, too.

Suddenly Chelsea got up from her chair and addressed Mirabelle. "Mirabelle, I just remembered! In all the excitement of my lunch plan, I had forgotten the other reason I had come today. I'm sure you already noticed, but I don't have enough fodder to get me through the rest of the winter." She shrugged helplessly. "I had planted enough fodder to get me through, but with it being cloudy the last 5 days of fall, it didn't grow large enough to reap. Do you by any chance have any extra supply that I can take off your hands?" Chelsea put her hands together and gave Mirabelle a pleading look.

Mirabelle got up from the table and said, "Yes of course, dear. We always keep an extra supply on hand for just such occasions. After all, we do put it on the list of purchasable items." With that she shuffled to the back and with Julia's help brought out enough for Chelsea to get through the winter.

Chelsea put the money plus a bit extra on the counter and picked up one of the two piles of hay she had been making. She turned so she could see Mirabelle around her stack and said "Thank you so much for this Mirabelle. I really appreciate the help. I meant to ask sooner, but was called to the city before I got a chance."

"It's no problem, dear," Mirabelle replied to this. "You're a good girl."

Chelsea turned to Vaughn sitting at the table. "I hate to ask this of you Vaughn, but would you mind carrying the other stack? I won't have to make two trips that way." Vaughn scowled at her, but complied nonetheless. They said their goodbyes, Vaughn saying that he would be back shortly, and walked out the door.

Vaughn looked down at Chelsea and said, "All right, what are you playing at?"

Without looking at him, Chelsea said in an even tone, "Truthfully? I wanted to get you out of there so you wouldn't have to answer the question," and she walked forward.

Vaughn's surprise was real, and for a moment he was frozen on the spot. When he did finally start walking, his mind worked twice as fast. Who could have told her? He knew that he had talked to Denny about it on the beach once in the fall, but he had been constantly checking his surroundings and was positive that no one else had been around to hear. Perhaps Denny _had _told her, he thought bitterly to himself. If that was the case he was going to have a talk with the fisherman, but not before he confronted Chelsea first.

They walked in silence all the way to the barn. They went inside and Chelsea carefully put her stack in the silo. Vaughn dropped his in not quite so carefully and rounded on her. "Who told you?!" he asked loudly.

"Who told me what, Vaughn?" Chelsea replied calmly. She was near the front wall of the barn, near a work table where she was brushing hay off the front of her shirt.

Vaughn's patience was thin, and he said with increasing intensity as he strode over to where she was, "Don't play games with me, I asked you who TOLD you?! Was it Denny?"

"Who told me _what_, Vaughn?" she said more firmly. There was a hint of alarm in her as he approached, but she stood her ground and faced him, now looking him directly in the eye.

"Who told you that I DON'T HAVE ANY PARENTS?!" Vaughn shouted his face livid with anger. He was towering over her at this point, his body not three inches away from hers.

The worried look in Chelsea's face smoothed into concern as her eyes softened and she said quietly, "You did…just now."

Vaughn turned away and started pacing, trying to calm down, but he was far too worked up at this point. "If that's true, then why didn't you want me to answer Mirabelle?"

"Before I had been going off of a guess, based on certain observations," Chelsea replied as she watched him pace.

"Observations, huh?" Vaughn continued pacing.

"Well, Mirabelle and Julia may have not seen it because they weren't looking for it, but I caught the uncomfortable look on your face when the question was posed." Chelsea took a deep breath. "But that wasn't my first idea of it; I've had other clues as well."

Vaughn stopped pacing and walked over to her again. He leaned against the wall of the barn and waited for her to continue.

"It's what you don't mention." He cocked an eyebrow, but she continued. "I had a friend in my youth once. She, like you, didn't know her parents. They were big corporate owners like my parents, but they died when she was very young, and she was raised by her aunt. She later revealed to me that they died in an avalanche during one of their vacations, but for a long time, she never said anything about it. I began to wonder when I started to notice that in all of her stories she never once mentioned her parents."

"You never mentioned your parent's, either," Vaughn interjected.

She smiled wryly at him. "Yes that's true, but there are two other hints both of you gave that I haven't revealed and complete my puzzle." Vaughn rolled his eyes at her analogy, but he had calmed down a bit, so he let her continue. "Whenever she looked at other kids with their parents, she would show either great interest, or great irritation." She looked up at Vaughn, trying to catch his eyes. "I've seen you watch Julia and Mirabelle with interest, and Elliot and Felicia with great irritation." Chelsea grimaced when she added, "Maybe even a hint of jealousy?"

That last comment stuck a blow to Vaughn's chest. How much did she watch him anyway? He had worked hard to look neutral no matter what he was thinking. But he denied Chelsea's words and turned away. "Whatever," he said. "I don't really care."

"… And that's the last thing you two had in common." Vaughn stopped and turned his head slightly. Faintly, he could see Chelsea shrug. "It's not she didn't care," she said sadly, "It's that she learned not to." He turned completely to face her. She looked away and held her arm at her side. "Not to care, and not to rely on others. The two things I tried but never could learn."

Vaughn took a deep breath and breathed a long sigh. His anger was spent, and he felt rather neutral. He still wasn't sure if he liked that Chelsea had figured it out, but it was like a weight off his chest. For awhile, silence stood its ground between them.

"So, chatterbox, who else have you told?" he finally said.

"No one. It was only ever a guess, and it wasn't my secret to tell." Then she smiled. "Besides, I think I can keep a secret." Despite himself, Vaughn had to smile, too.

Chelsea closed the distance between him, and pointed to his front side. "You've got hay all over your shirt and vest." He looked down to see both big and small pieces sticking out of his clothes awkwardly. "Here, I have a better vantage point, just don't move," and with that started to remove the hay, either by plucking or swiping movements.

Vaughn watched her as she worked, a little uncomfortable to have her touching him so much, but he tried not to think on it. Without looking up at him, Chelsea began to talk. "Well, if you don't tell Mirabelle about your parents and/or don't accept the pending invitation that would follow, and if you don't have any work that day, you're welcome to spend the Starry Night Festival with me."

Vaughn flushed and lost his ability to speak. Chelsea determinedly did not look up at him and continued plucking stray bits of straw. Vaughn finally managed to stutter out, "B-but, don't you have someone else to eat with? Wh-What about Natalie's family?"

Chelsea let out a long and sad sigh. "Oh, I've known for a long time now that I would be spending it alone." Vaughn watched her carefully. "I want to spend it on the island, and I already told Natalie that I didn't want to intrude on her family's celebration." Then she finally stopped what she was doing and looked at him. "It doesn't have to be date or anything like that." She stepped back and swiped her hands together. "But since you don't have anyone to share it with, and I have no one to share it with, it might be less miserable if we did it together."

She beckoned for him to follow her out the door, and they walked towards the house. "You don't have to give me an answer either way, and I won't have any hard feeling towards you if you decide not to." She drew his gaze to her by looking up at him and said, "Believe it or not, Vaughn, I consider you one of my closest friends." Vaughn was almost flattered until he considered that since coming to the island her list could actually be quite long.

She took a step towards the house and he took a step towards the road. Before they parted she said, "Like I said, you don't have to answer me, but if you were to decide yes, between 6 and 8 pm would be a good time to arrive." And with that, she stepped into the house.


	7. Starry Night Festival

As Vaughn stood on deck and watched Sunny Island get closer and closer, he began to regret his decision. Why did he ever agree to come? Maybe it was curiosity that drove him; he had never celebrated the Starry Night Festival before, other than sitting with the herds and looking up at the sky. Or maybe it was because it had made him happy (if only for a moment) to be invited by someone. Now he was just nervous. How was he going to explain to people why he was here? Not that he cared what other people thought, but if he tried to explain why he was there, he was sure to be asked why he didn't go to Mirabelle's instead, or why not his own family, or worse they would conclude that he and Chelsea were dating, which they absolutely were NOT! And what _about_ Chelsea? Was she expecting more from him than just friendship? Vaughn shook his head violently. No, he thought to himself, it was nothing like that.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. Well, it was too late to change his mind now. Vaughn thought hard. The first thing he would have to do is find a way to avoid the main villagers. If he could do that he could be spared the awkward questions. Maybe he should just head over to Chelsea's. He rejected that idea; Taro and Felicia still saw Chelsea as an adopted child, and might come to visit her earlier in the day. He decided he would spend the day in the forest and wait until dark.

Vaughn got off the boat and moved his feet industriously across the beach to be out of site. He cut behind Chen's shop and made certain no one was around before he crossed the bridge and entered the forest. It felt weird to be sneaking around, but he really didn't want to answer to anybody that day. Once he was in the forest he went searching for the pack of dogs he would feed on Thursdays. It wasn't long before they found him, and he guided them to a secluded part of the forest. They sniffed at his bag, making him grin. Since he was going to be on the island today, he had brought over some food for them to share. He sat down on fallen tree as they ate, and spent the rest of the day with them.

* * *

Chelsea finished with her animals and headed over to Natalie's house. She had three bars of chocolate and some white grass in a basket. When she arrived she handed the basket to Felicia, who was absolutely delighted. She pulled Chelsea into a hug and praised her on how adorable she was. Taro told everyone that lunch was on the table, and to hurry up and start eating.

They had invited her to dine with them for the Starry Night Festival, but she turned it down, saying that she did not wish to intrude, and that she was actually very excited to have a quiet celebration for once in her life. Natalie laughed and agreed she'd be better off at home, and Felicia compromised with her to arrange a lunch instead, to which she had happily agreed.

Just as Taro said, lunch was already on the table. Since Elliot did not like milk, there was relaxation tea instead set out in five cups. There were an assortment of fruit sandwiches on one side and stir fried veggies on the other. Chelsea asked where they'd managed to get all of the ingredients in the middle of winter. Felicia assured her that all of the fruit and vegetables were still very fresh tasting, and Taro went into a long explanation about a quality refrigerator that kept everything healthy and fresh for very long periods of time.

They ate happily, relaxing and enjoying each other's company. Natalie poked fun at Elliot a few times, but Chelsea would poke fun at Natalie in turn, and soon it became a contest between them on who had the better insults. It was an amusing display, and though Elliot looked a little nervous he was happy to be a spectator and grateful to Chelsea for averting Natalie's attention from him. Felicia just laughed and watched the two of them. Chelsea and Natalie laughed as much as they insulted each other, and by the end of it, Natalie had a pad of paper on which she was writing down Chelsea's insults. Eventually Chelsea called it a tie, and Felicia called her adorable.

Their lunch soon came to a close. Chelsea waved goodbye to them all, thanking them for their kindness and headed off to begin preparing for dinner. She didn't know whether or not Vaughn was going to come, but decided to make enough for two just in case. She could always put the extra in the fridge and save it for her next mining expedition.

She was trying to decide what she should make herself for dinner, when she saw a message in her mailbox. Curiosity soon turned to resentment as she saw that it was from her mother. Apparently being away from her parents for Starry Night did not free her from an ambush of cynicism. Clarice wrote that she was extremely displeased that Chelsea did not come back to have dinner with them that night, that her father was heartbroken because of it and was now in even worse condition. She wrote that she would of course, on her daughter's behalf, tell all of their friends that evening how her daughter was a disgrace and did not deserve any of their attention (Chelsea knew her mother would enjoy this greatly), and finally that she need not even bother to contact them for New Years.

Though Chelsea had never had any intention of leaving the island to see her parents on New Years, the comment still stung. She hoped her mother was exaggerating about her father, and that he was okay more for his sake than her own. She walked into the stable and let Spark jump into arms as she sat down on the floor. She stared into space absently stroking Spark, who was happy to be in her owner's arms. She looked up at Chelsea and ruffed happily, which made Chelsea smile. She spent a little more time there, throwing a small stick across the stable for awhile. Argan nuzzled Chelsea on the arm so she stroked his nose in between stick throws.

Finally she left the stable, feeling a bit better. She entered the house and flipped the letter angrily threw the air. Chelsea sat down at the table and thought about what to make for dinner. She already knew she was going to make pizza for her main course; she had bought the ingredients before she left the city, and they were in her fridge waiting for her. One day, she'd have her own bread and cheese to make it all herself. Something to look forward to, she thought to herself. Her mother was wrong, Chelsea thought to herself; nothing you didn't have to work for was truly worth having. After a little while she decided to make grilled mushrooms on the side, milk to drink, and cheesecake for desert, since she would have enough leftover ingredients from the pizza to make it. She also decided that she could warm the milk she didn't drink at dinner and take it out with her when she went to look at the stars.

Just thinking about it made her very excited, and she couldn't wait for night to fall. Well, she laughed to herself, the best way to make that happen was to get busy and to start cooking. She went to her CD-player and pulled Lanna's CD out of its newly-autographed case.

She had gone to Lanna's house last Saturday night (two days ago) to deliver the cart of dresses. She was sure she looked ridiculous rolling that thing down the street, but she didn't care; those things were NOT staying with her. She had briefly thought about keeping the black one, remembering Julia's suggestion, but shook her head violently. No, her mother was not going to win this one. So even though she had been partial to the dress Vaughn had seen her in (she flushed slightly at the memory; one more reason), it too went on the cart. Lanna had been absolutely ecstatic to have so many dresses to choose from, and couldn't thank her enough. Chelsea laughed when she remembered how Lanna just about died when she held out her CD case and asked Lanna to sign it. She was so excited that she walked back with Chelsea to her farm and signed her CD-player, too.

She put the CD in and pushed play. She went to the kitchen and started on the cheesecake first. As it was baking she started working on the pizza, twirling the crust in the air like an Italian chef. Once the pizza was assembled and only needed time in the oven, she started working on the mushrooms. For a rich girl, Chelsea had learned to be a pretty good cook. She had picked cooking and music as her electives during all her years in private school. These two things had become her escape, before the farm that is.

She worked diligently and happily, listening to Lanna's hit single. She had actually been pretty good when this was recorded, and before long Chelsea began humming along….

* * *

It was now six in the afternoon and getting too cold to stay outside any longer, so Vaughn left the pack and set out for Chelsea's farm. Leaving the forest, he walked behind the Inn, glad that the building had expanded large enough to conceal him all the way to the path that lead to the ranch. He walked onto the property and could hear music coming from the house. As he got closer he recognized the song as Lanna's hit single, which he had heard Lanna playing in her house from time to time. The only difference was he heard two voices, not one.

Vaughn knocked on the door. The music was turned off, and in a moment Chelsea came and opened the door. Her bandana was gone and she was wearing a kimono the same blue as her eyes with yellow stars all over it. She smiled and stepped aside to let him in.

"Hi, Vaughn! I'm glad you came," she said as he stepped inside. The table was only set for one, but another plate, fork, and cup were set out on the counter just in case.

"What's with the kimono?" Vaughn asked. "I thought people only wore those for New Years."

"I know," Chelsea responded. "But I was hoping to look at the stars later tonight, and it's too cold to sit out there in my t-shirt and jeans at night."

She went to the kitchen and pulled two slices of pizza from the pie and scooped some sautéed mushrooms from the frying pan. "This should be enough to start you, but you're welcome to as much as you want," Chelsea said. She put the plate in front of Vaughn, who had taken a seat, along with his silverware and proceeded to pour him a glass of milk. She then sat down to her own dinner, smiling at him before picking up her milk glass and taking a sip.

Out of curiosity Vaughn asked, "Were you singing just now?"

"Oh you heard that," Chelsea replied with an embarrassed smile. "Yes, I'd been listening to the song while I was cooking, and I heard it so many times that I learned all the words and just started singing. It's been so long since I've sung aloud. It was nice." She smiled to herself and took a bite of her pizza.

He knew it was judgmental of him, but knowing that Chelsea probably never had to cook for herself in her life before Sunny Island made him a bit nervous about eating what she cooked. Hopefully three and a half seasons was long enough to learn. He remembered a girl from Mineral Town he met by chance when he was bringing animals over to the Brownie Ranch. It was their Cooking Festival, so he was obliged to go, and what she had made was black, smoking, and not recognizable as anything edible. Well, Chelsea hadn't poisoned herself yet, and nothing was blackened, so he hoped for the best. He resolved not to complain if it was bad.

He took a bite and was pleased to find it more than passable. It made him realize how hungry he was and he ate with less restraint. They ate in silence, and when Vaughn had cleared his plate Chelsea began to rise, asking him if he wanted any more. Vaughn just held his hand up and went to the kitchen to help himself.

"How did you like everything?" Chelsea inquired, turning in her seat.

"It's good," Vaughn replied.

Chelsea clasped her hands together in delight. "Haha, coming from you that means 'Excellent.' I'm glad you liked it."

"You've improved a lot for someone who's only been cooking for three seasons," Vaughn commented, sitting back down with a full plate.

"Oh, I've been cooking for a lot longer than just three seasons," Chelsea said. When Vaughn gave her a disbelieving look, she continued. "When I was in primary school I was allowed two electives besides the basics. Cooking was one of them."

"What was the other?" Vaughn asked.

"Music," she said. "It was a private school so they focused more on the classic instruments and styles." She checked off on her fingers and looked up as she said, "I learned how to play piano, violin, and I sang in the choir. My school asked me to do recitals and solos all the time. They said it was because I was talented, but I just think they wanted the publicity," she shrugged.

"I'm sure it was because of your talent," Vaughn replied in an even tone.

"Well I don't know about that, but _maybe_ you're right," she conceded.

"Just don't tell Lanna you can sing. She might feel upstaged if you do." To this Chelsea laughed heartily, and they sank into a comfortable silence once again.

Once they were both finished, Chelsea took the plates to the sink. Next she went to the refrigerator and pulled the cheesecake out. She refilled the glasses of milk, then returned to the sink and started to do the dishes. Vaughn paced around the room a bit, when a piece of paper on the floor caught his attention. He walked over and picked it up, unfurling it.

It was from Chelsea's mother. His anger increased with every sentence he read. That woman could make Alisa from the church swear. How dare she write such things to Chelsea! Though he never knew his parents, he could understand being upset if their children didn't show up for certain holidays. However, this letter was written with the intent to harm. He looked back at Chelsea who, thankfully, was still doing the dishes and hadn't noticed him with the letter. He crumpled it up and tossed it in her trash can.

He walked over to Chelsea and asked her if he could help. She thanked him and pointed to the smaller plates meant for the cheesecake. "I'm almost finished with these dishes. If you could cut the cake and put the slices on the plates, that would be a big help. Plus," she smiled, "it means you can cut as big a slice as you want."

He grinned back and went to cut the slices. As he did so he asked, "So did you cook all this with me in mind? You haven't been spying on me in the diner, have you?"

"Oh, all of these things are favorites of yours?" She asked. "I just picked dishes that I enjoy to eat. I wasn't sure if you were coming, remember?" She dried her hands on a dish towel. She then took the rest of the milk out of the fridge and put it in a pot on the stove, which she set on a low simmer before walking over to the table. "Besides, I don't spy on you, silly. I just happen to be in the places you are at the time." Vaughn just rolled his eyes.

As they ate desert, Vaughn asked her why she chose to learn music and cooking. Chelsea talked about her music classes and her cooking classes, and how much she enjoyed learning, even though her mother didn't think cooking was necessary. He listened in silence, only butting in to remind her that she had a slice too at which point she would take another bite. She talked with such enthusiasm and passion he had a hard time not smiling.

Before long they were both finished, and Vaughn took the dishes without a word and started to wash them. As he did so Chelsea walked over to a high shelf, trying to reach what looked like coffee mugs. He walked over to where she was and pulled two of them down. She thanked him and he walked back to the dishes. She turned the stove off and poured the hot milk into each of the mugs.

Vaughn turned his head over his shoulder and said, "You should sing to your animals."

"What?! W-Why?" Chelsea stammered, blushing.

Vaughn just chuckled a little. "No need to get self-conscious. Animals like it when you sing to them. It calms them down."

"Really? I never knew that," she replied. "Well, I guess I can give it a try." She gave him a quizzical look. "Do you sing to animals?"

"Wh-What?! No, no I don't," he exclaimed, turning away. After a pause he murmured, "I hum. Sometimes. On the transport."

Chelsea beamed but made no response. He finished with the dishes and walked over to where the hot milk was on the table. Chelsea went over to a cupboard near her bed and pulled out two wool blankets. She tossed one to him and headed for the door.

"What's this?" Vaughn asked.

She turned to look at him. "I said it was cold outside. It's either this, or sit really close together." His eyes widened in such a way that Chelsea burst out laughing. He grumbled something, but she ignored it and put his mug in his hands. "To keep warm," she said. Chelsea turned the lights off in the house as they left.

They went outside and walked out into the field, which was completely covered in snow. They sat down next to the river and bundled themselves up in their individual blankets. They kept the mugs in their hands to keep their fingers warm, sipping from time to time. They sat like this and looked up at the stars. After awhile, Vaughn looked back at Chelsea. Her face was as lit up as the stars, and he chuckled a little at her ear to ear smile.

"You look like you've never seen the sky before," he remarked.

"Not like this," she breathed. "Maybe it's because of the festival or because everyone on the island has turned their lights off, but it feels special somehow. I've never seen so many stars."

"You're exaggerating," said Vaughn.

Chelsea giggled, "Maybe I am. I'm just happy to actually enjoy this festival for once in my life."

"Just one more reason not to go back to the city," Vaughn responded, looking away as he did so.

She looked at him, then back up at the sky. "Yes, one more reason," she finally said. Suddenly she fell backwards and Vaughn turned to her in alarm. Then he just scoffed as he realized she did it on purpose to see the stars better. She beamed and folded her blanket to cover herself. "C'mon, you can see more this way."

Vaughn sighed in exasperation, but he set his mug to the side and followed her example, taking off his hat when it got in his way. She looked over at him and said, "You look funny without your hat."

"You're annoying," he shot back. She giggled at his response, and he grinned too.

Eventually they got up from where they were sitting, finishing the hot milk in their mugs, and went back to the house. Inside, Chelsea told him that she had reserved a bed for him at the inn, just in case he had decided to show up ("Call it well prepared or paranoia," she had said.), but she refused to let him set off until he had warmed back up in the house. They sat together silently in front of her fireplace until they were both warm.

When she deemed him fit to go back into the cold she accompanied him back to the edge of the property. "Thanks again for coming, Vaughn."

"Thanks for inviting me," he said, tipping his hat. Chelsea went back to the farm and Vaughn set off for the inn.

Okay, he admitted to himself, so he was glad he came.


	8. Enter Robert

"Hi! I'm Robert. I'm the new guy in town," Robert beamed.

He had gone to introduce himself to Chelsea at her house as many of the newcomers had a tendency to do. He had blue hair he took very good care of, keeping it soft and lush. His eyes were bright amber, giving him an almost catlike appearance. Though he didn't have the best salary in the world, he always made sure to stay very fashionably dressed.

"It's nice to meet you," Chelsea smiled back.

"I came to this island because I heard the famous Chelsea de Rougue was living here." He saw her smile falter a bit at hearing her last name, but only for a moment. "I came here for a change of pace. After all, if a fashion tycoon to be, a pop star, and a gourmet chef are living here then it must be a nice place. I'm excited to look around the island." He smiled again at her.

What he didn't tell her was that he not only knew who she was, he was working for her mother Clarice Veronica de Rougue. He wasn't sure if he was surprised or relieved that Chelsea hadn't recognized him. Then again, why would she, when wherever she went she had kept her eyes down or straight ahead. He had been working for the company for years, setting up the studio and getting the models into their dresses, but he always stopped to watch Chelsea glide through the room. She was always so quiet, graceful, and beautiful she absolutely took his breath away. For many years he would watch her and plan their future together. Oh, and he had many plans.

"Well, it might be a little plain," she said with a giggle, "but I hope you like it here." She held her hand out to him for a hand shake.

He took her hand in his and planted a kiss, looking up into her eyes. She was smiling and laughing! What had happened to his quiet angel? Though he masked it, he had been shocked to see her in such plain clothes when she opened the door. But her hair was just as silky as it had naturally been, and her face as beautifully shaped as ever. His heart melted as those gorgeous blue eyes looked into his.

Chelsea was a little taken aback at having her hand kissed, but she did her best not to show it and prayed he would let her hand go soon. He seemed to be thinking about something as he looked at her. But he eventually let go of her hand, and excused himself out the door, but not before turning back and saying, "You can call me Robbie if you like," with a wink, and then he vanished.

"Thanks," Chelsea said aloud to herself, "but I think I'll pass."

As he walked off the property and back to the hotel, his mind was in a whirl of what had transpired the past few days. He was so thrilled when Madam Clarice had revealed to him that her daughter was in fact alive; it had set his plans back into motion.

Despite being teased about it in his youth, fashion had always been where his heart was. He had started interning at _Rougue Studios_ as soon as he had entered high school, and had gotten a job no sooner than graduation. He was two years older than Chelsea, so for a total of eight he had watched her. His greatest dream was be the owner of that glorious studio someday, to be the one to make the choices of what was to be exhibited, and he knew just how to accomplish his goal; marry Chelsea de Rougue. For eight years he hoped to catch her eye, win her heart, and take his place by her side. That way, she wouldn't have to run the company and it would stay in the family; everything was all set.

However, no matter what he tried he could never pull Chelsea out of her shell. He would offer her refreshments, ask her opinion of a dress or a suit, or simply stare at her until she got the uncomfortable feeling she was being watched. Nothing worked; she would quietly refuse, or give her opinion in monotone, and no matter how he stared she kept her eyes down. He also attended all of her concerts, and oh what a joy she had been to listen to, but he could never get close enough to compliment her after the performances. So when he had graduated high school he decided to kick it up a notch and work to become Clarice's personal assistant.

He finally acquired the job a little less than a year ago, and then tragedy struck. Chelsea was nowhere to be found, and they had finally discovered the boat she had snuck off on only to be told that it had sunk to the bottom. All of his plans ruined, not to mention the heart ache he felt when he imagined his poor angel drowning in that storm. He couldn't sleep for over a week. Eventually he faced facts and changed his tactics. He was still Clarice's personal assistant, but he also began appealing to the board members, and doing them whatever favors he could. If there was no heir, then the least he could do for the company was be in place when the board had to vote.

Franklin de Rougue had in fact gotten worse in his daughter's absence. Robert believed it was partly because he grieved for his daughter, but there was no denying that he had been on borrowed time for the past few years. It was proved all the more true when even upon seeing his daughter again his health did not improve. But last night, the most startling event had occurred.

It had been the Starry Night Festival, and Franklin was still very ill. They took him out to the evening party for a couple of hours, which he had to spend in a wheel chair, since he was too weak to stand. After about two hours his strength was spent and he had to return to the hospital. Clarice was at his bedside and Robert in the chair behind her, still on the clock and busy with her schedule for tomorrow. It seemed as though Franklin and Clarice were having yet another fight about their daughter which were becoming evermore frequent, so he just kept his eyes down and worked on her schedule.

Suddenly he heard Clarice shriek, "You can't mean that!" and Robert was compelled to look up at the hospital bed.

"I am sorry Clarice, but," and he looked directly into Roberts eyes as he said, "I hereby deem Chelsea an unsuitable candidate to inherit the company."

Robert dropped his pen and stared. It wasn't possible; Franklin had just said the impossible. Clarice yelled, pleaded, and shrieked at him to reconsider, but a change had come over her husband and the man who once bent to her will so easily was now as firm as steel. Nothing she said (or threatened) could change his mind.

When Franklin fell asleep, no longer able to keep up the exertions, Clarice rounded on Robert. "You are to tell NO ONE what you've heard today, do you understand me?!" Robert nodded silently. "He's… he's just delirious from being out so late tonight. He didn't mean what he just said."

She was pacing the room now. Robert watched her from his seat and calculated. Oh, he would keep his promise and keep quiet… for now. After all, his angel was alive, and he still had a chance to win her over. He could keep the information to himself, his trump card if wooing Chelsea should fail, at which point he could go to the board with this knowledge and ask them to take a vote. Clarice finally stopped pacing and pointed her finger at him. "You are to watch Chelsea closely. I'll arrange for the speedboat to be ready by the time you get to the docks. That way you'll arrive there by morning. You are to stay until I say otherwise. I will have it considered as a business trip, so all of your expenses will be paid for. You are to tell me of ANYTHING she does that is overly suspicious!"

Robert simply nodded silently and left her schedule on the table next to him. He left the room and tried to stay composed as he walked down the hall to begin packing. He was used to Clarice's temper and was no longer intimidated by it. Quite the reverse, he had to fight the urge to dance with joy. He was going to the island to see his dear Chelsea! Everything was falling into place again. He had his new trump card in his deck, he had Clarice's trust, and now he was going to be close to Chelsea. The only missing piece was to find a way to keep in touch with the board, but he would worry about that later.

He hastily packed his things from his apartment, stuffing everything he could in his suitcases. A car arrived to take him to the docks and he read the many text messages that came to him from Clarice as she arranged for him to stay in the large hotel on the island. He reached the docks in next to no time, and spent the night asleep on the boat as it sped its way to the island to be there by morning. No sooner had he finished putting his things in his room he set off for Chelsea's farm to see his angel.

Yes, so much had happened in no more than a day or two. He was still appalled to see Chelsea so plainly dressed, but surprised at the same time to see her smiling. Perhaps once he got closer to her, he could convince her to wear something a little more flattering. After all, women who were in love would do many things for their crushes. Yes, he would enjoy his time here.

Robert finally arrived at the Hotel and went into his room. He took his pad of paper and began taking notes of everything he had observed so far. Nothing was of interest yet to Clarice, but the details might come in handy for later observations. He spent the rest of the day greeting people and observing the crowd Chelsea was now socializing with.


	9. Typical Day

Note: Hey everyone! Thanks to all who are commenting on the story! Good reviews encourage me to write more, and the critical reviews make me a better writer. The best way to keep the story moving (especially now that Spring semester has started and I'm twice as busy) is to comment. I've had this chapter lying around for awhile, trying to get around to editing it, but so many comments have been coming in that I decided to put it to the top of my to-do list and post it.

This chapter is slower than the others. I can't speak for anyone else, but this truly is a day in the life for me in the game (with the exception of Robert). I have my next chapter in mind already, just not quite sure how to form it all together coherently. I promise to do so soon. Enjoy!

**Chapter 9 – Typical Day**

After her weird start to the morning, Chelsea began her work for the day. Her first stop was the chicken coop. She walked in and grabbed the bird feed, tossing it into each of the four feeders. Two of the chickens were content with a simple hug, but the other two wanted special petting. She thought about what Vaughn said and began to hum, softly at first. The hen in her hands clucked happily, boosting her confidence to hum louder. By the time she was in the barn with her cattle she was singing out full. They followed around the barn as she set out the fodder, happy looks on their faces when she brushed and milked them. She even got S class milk from her first cow.

Still humming the song she was singing she walked back towards the stable to tend her horse and dog. As always they were happy to see her as she fed, brushed, and pet them in turn. Finished with her animals for the day, she walked back towards the house when she heard footsteps behind her. It was Spark happily following her in the snow. Chelsea smiled to herself; ever since she had come back about a week ago, Spark had barely left her side.

Chelsea went into the house to stock up on food. Today was a mining day, and if she could get enough Adamantite she could finally get a cheese maker. She had successfully made a mayonnaise maker at the beginning of winter, and was shipping as much mayonnaise out as she could to hopefully attract another male farmer to town. She desperately wanted a sheep and hoped that if enough male farmers came to town, Mirabelle might be obliged to ask Vaughn to bring some over.

She set off for town to make her usual rounds. She went to Natalie's to chat for a bit. Taro told her the weather, Felicia said she was adorable, Elliot was sleepy, and Natalie was in her room where they spent some quality time. Next she set off for Mirabelle's place, said hello and kept Julia company for awhile. She went to the east side of town, stopping in on Sabrina and Regis, promising them both some of the rarest gems she could find on her trip.

She made sure Spark stayed outside as she visited Pierre, who gave his professional opinion on the food she was taking with her to the mine. Leaving Pierre's house she saw Lanna petting Spark, who had wandered over to the front of her house. Chelsea suppressed a laugh. Lanna was wearing one of the dresses from the cart Chelsea had wheeled over.

"Hello, Lanna, looking good."

"Do you really think so?!" Lanna asked. "I've decided that the best way to work on my image is to try a fresh new look. I'm going to wear a new dress every day!" Lanna then gave her a contemplating look. "Are you sure you're okay with this? I mean, don't want to keep at least one?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine. I don't really have a need for any of them here." Chelsea shrugged, "You'll be able to put them to better use than I can."

"Well, alright, if you're sure. Thanks again sooooo much! Hey, I think I'll go talk to some of my fans now," and with that the skipped off.

Chelsea continued down the road to the Hotel where she said hello to Popuri and Karen, the two girls on vacation from Mineral town. She also popped into Mark's room to say hello and chat for a bit. She liked talking to Mark, and he was always happy to see her. She told him the condition of her animals and how she tended them as he sat on the bed ever the eager listener.

"Do you think that maybe sometime you could show me how to do some of the chores on the farm?" he asked. "I really want to learn how to grow crops."

"Sure, I think we can work something out. I need to fill the paddies at the back of my ranch with rice seeds as soon as spring starts, so I could certainly use the help planting the potatoes and turnips. It'll be good practice for you."

"That's great!" Mark replied with a huge smile on his face.

After awhile they said goodbye and she ran over to say a quick hello to Wada and Shea. Easy enough since they weren't exactly big talkers, although she did have to keep Shea from hunting Spark who growled at him for his attempt.

Finally she retraced her steps back to the center of town, dropped Spark off at home (who curled up contentedly for a nap in the stable) and made her way to the mines. She waved hello to anyone she passed as she ran through the forest and up the mountain. This island is becoming really popular, Chelsea thought to herself. I'm seeing more and more people in the forest these days.

She entered the cave and paused to catch her breath. She greeted the two miners on the top floor, and then began making her way down. She worked her way down at a steady pace, careful not to over exert herself. When it seemed likely she would hit a pitfall, she would take a break and eat something to boost her stamina. Eventually she made it to the twenty fifth floor where she carefully tapped the rocks. Sometimes the Adamantite would come out as useless ore, but more often than not she was successful in pulling it out perfectly. She cleared the floor, finding a total of seven Adamantite. Experimentally she went down to the next floor, but it didn't take long before she exhausted the last of her supplies and she had to return to the surface.

Running back down the mountain and through the forest Chelsea made it to the center of town. She shipped all but the Adamantite and two Emeralds, which she gave to Sabrina and Regis on her way to the diner.

She entered, sat at the center table, and ordered her food. While she waited for it to be prepared, she noticed Lanna and Denny at their usual table. Lanna was still wearing the gown, and Denny was across from her with his mouth wide open. Lanna didn't seem to notice and instead continued to go on and on about her plans to get back into the public eye with her newest scheme. Chelsea burst out laughing and just waved her hands in a helpless gesture when Lanna gave her an inquiring look.

Chelsea's food arrived and she ate with an appetite only working in the mines could give a person. She quickly finished and sat back in her chair, observing her surroundings. The new guy in town was sitting at the table to the far left of the entrance. He was watching her, and she could see a pad of paper and a pen in front of him. She wondered if he was making personal comments on everyone's outfits but decided to make nothing of it. She smiled and waved at him. He gave her a look of astonishment at being addressed, but soon beamed at her and waved back. She giggled, which also seemed to surprise him.

Taking one more look around Chelsea got up and walked over to Denny and Lanna's table. She giggled and put her hand under Denny's chin to close his mouth, which had still been hanging open. This action woke him from whatever daze he had been in, and finally engaged himself in the conversation Lanna had been trying to have with him. This made Chelsea laugh more, and together the three of them talked for awhile. The three of them left together, all tired from waking early and Chelsea doubly tired from her work in the mines. Lanna said goodnight first, and Denny and Chelsea parted way at the crossroads.

Chelsea sleepily made her way back to her house, slowly changing into her night clothes and finally collapsing on her bed for the night. It had been a long but productive day, and she was happy. It was great to have things back to normal again. She made a mental note to set aside some milk for Vaughn tomorrow, and drifted off to sleep.


	10. Of Dresses and Awkwardness

Hey all! It took me awhile to get this chapter just the way I wanted it, so at long last it is here. I do have a serious question, however. Legally speaking, I want to make sure my story stays at the proper maturity rating. I will keep it at Teen for now, but I am leaning towards mature for content that may come up in the future. If it seems like it's getting to the level of M, it would be a great help if someone would send me a message or comment saying so. Still my first fanfic on this or any site, so I'm still unsure how far I can go before I push the limit. Thanks again for reading everyone! And Thank you to all those who have commented thus far.

* * *

Chelsea woke at the crack of dawn, as she had become accustomed to doing. She gave a great stretch before climbing out of bed and getting dressed. She stepped out to another sunny winter day, tended to her animals and took some time expanding the fences for the chicken and cow pastures. Spring was only five days away, and she wanted to have all of the tiny details finished before then.

Walking into the maker shed, she turned her eggs into mayonnaise and shipped all of her milk save one, which she took out with her. Entering the house to make sure she had enough Adamantite for a cheese maker, she then set off for town.

She went to Chen's shop first to check if they had any Wonderfuls on sale. To her delight they had a Purple Wonderful in stock, which she purchased without hesitation, and had Charlie equip it to her axe. She made a mental note to switch it to her hoe when spring hit, and set off to order a cheese maker from Gannon.

As Chelsea left his shop Eliza skipped up from behind her and continued until she met up with Charlie. Together they ran down to the beach. Chelsea giggled; they really were cute together, whether or not they knew it. She made her usual greetings to the people in the inn and to Natalie's family before heading over to Mirabelle's.

Mirabelle greeted her with a hearty hello, and Julia came over from the other room to greet her. They weren't talking for long before Vaughn came through the door, just then finishing his work with the animals. He paused for a moment, then tipped his hat in hello and leaned against the counter. Chelsea pulled out the big gallon of milk and handed it over the counter to Mirabelle, who used it pour Vaughn his usual glass of milk. Chelsea winked at him, and Vaughn just rolled his eyes, taking his glass from the counter.

Once Vaughn was finally finished with his milk, Chelsea turned to him and said, "Thanks for the suggestion the other day, Vaughn. It really worked, and my animals seem to enjoy it."

Vaughn paused as he tried to recall what suggestion she meant. Then he remembered the Starry Night Festival, and realized she was talking about her singing. His eyes widened and a very slight blush appeared across his face. "Oh… um… I'm glad." Regaining his composure he smirked pulling his hat down, "I'm glad your animals are happy." He straightened and headed for the door. "See you later," he said, and with that he was out the door.

"What suggestion are you talking about?" Julia asked, cocking her head at Chelsea.

"Oh, nothing, just some advice on caring for my animals," Chelsea replied. Mirabelle and Julia traded looks of confusion which Chelsea laughed. She waved goodbye to them and set off for the east of town.

She made her usual round of hellos to everyone who lived in these parts. During the round she saw someone waving at her enthusiastically from over by the well. It was Robert, beaming at her and flailing his arm as far left and right as it would go, making him look very silly. The person standing next to him seemed to a little uncomfortable, glancing at him nervously. Robert was wearing tight leather pants, a red silk shirt, and a slimming purple trench coat that had fur frills accenting the outer edges. She laughed nervously and waved back. Upon the recognition, he jumped into the air and yelped excitedly, waving both of his arms. He then rounded on the man next to him and jabbered excitedly about what seemed to be a continuation of a conversation they were having earlier, or at least a one-sided conversation. The man looked towards Chelsea pleadingly, but she just shrugged and gave him an apologetic look.

Chelsea made her way to the river, but when she could still hear Robert jabbering on, she decided to relocate to the other side of the river where festivals were held. It was quiet and peaceful. The only people there were Popuri, Karen, and a man who was studying the islands festivals. She settled herself down, letting her legs hang off the side off the edge and cast her line. She stayed there until it was turning dark, then made her way home for the night to try out what recipes she could with the medium and large fish from her catches.

* * *

Vaughn left the shop and headed towards the shore. He paced the beach as he usually did to relax himself. Every now and then he would see Charlie and Eliza playing in the distance. After awhile Denny came out of his house to fish, and the girl named Sabrina arrived to stare out to the ocean.

Sabrina always enjoyed her trips to the beach, but she especially enjoyed Wednesdays when Vaughn the animal trader would be there. She still remembered the day he helped walk her home. Since then she hadn't been able to get him out of her mind; his strong arm lifting hers up and guiding her back to the house, how his complaining about her being in the way was his way of hiding his concern. She kept glancing over her shoulder, trying to catch his eye, but every time he was turned away or looking somewhere else. Sabrina sighed to herself.

Once Sabrina and the kids left the beach, Vaughn walked over to where Denny was and they stood in comfortable silence. After a long while Vaughn began to tell Denny what he had promised himself not to reveal; the events of the Starry Night Festival. He insisted to himself that it was only between friends, but he hadn't been able to get it out of his mind. Denny laughed and teased him, which Vaughn ignored. Denny could be annoying, but their similar pasts and wandering natures gave them common ground; their friendship was one of mutual understanding and respect. Even though he was irritating, Vaughn knew he could trust Denny to keep it to himself (if for no other reason the threat of bodily injury).

"So… do you _like_ like Chelsea?" Denny asked after they had been standing in silence for awhile.

"I… don't know. But I don't think so." Vaughn replied.

"Well, only time will tell. You could do worse, even if she can be a little scary sometimes." Denny shuddered and Vaughn chuckled. Denny shook his head and continued, "Nah, she's a nice girl. I'd be angry too if I finally came home only to be told I was moving."

When the sun was almost set and Denny had caught a good number of fish at their dusk feeding rush, he ran to his house to put all of his gear away. He came back with two large buckets full of fish and together he and Vaughn made their way to the diner. If Vaughn had seen Chelsea just up the road heading towards her farm, he made no mention of it. They parted at the door; Vaughn to his usual place in the back and Denny to sell his catch to the owner before finally sitting at his usual place to wait for Lanna. Those two seemed to spend a lot of time together, thought Vaughn, and he wondered if they went to dinner together every night.

The thought soon left his mind as a waitress came to take his order. It was a slow night (though there were a couple of new faces he didn't recognize) so it didn't take long for his milk and porridge to arrive. Just as Vaughn picked up his spoon and began to eat his porridge, Lanna walked through the door. Vaughn choked and spit his food across the table. He quickly sat back and pulled his hat down, hoping no one had seen. Slowly he lifted his gaze to the table across the way, and sure enough, he wasn't seeing things; Lanna was wearing Chelsea's black dress with the crisscrossed front and side shoulder strap.

Lanna didn't notice his reaction and sat in her usual place with Denny, asking him what he thought of "this one." Denny smiled and said it was nice, better able to manage himself now that he knew she planned to do this every night. Unlike Lanna, Denny had noticed Vaughn's reaction, and was smiling for that reason, too. But it did make him wonder; Vaughn wasn't the type to get so worked up over something like this.

Vaughn wasn't the only one keeping an eye on Lanna, though he tried to hide it. Robert was at the table close to the front counter, elbows on the table and mouth resting on his folded hands as he peered at her. Half of an hour passed with Robert silently in this position and Vaughn eating uncomfortably.

Suddenly Robert got up from his table and marched over to where Lanna was sitting. He stopped abruptly at the table, took Lanna's hand to lift her from her chair, and had her spin in place so he could look at the dress all the way around. Denny gave Vaughn a serious look, who got up and walked over to the table. Denny got up too and joined them on the other side, standing closer to Lanna than he usually did.

"Hmm… yes… yes it's just as I thought," Robert was mumbling to himself as he studied Lanna's figure.

"Is there a problem here?" Vaughn spoke up.

Robert paused in his observations to look around for whoever was speaking. His eyes narrowed upon seeing Vaughn, and gave him a once over. Vaughn narrowed his eyes too. He couldn't place it, but something about this man rubbed him the wrong way.

"So you're the famous Vaughn… I've heard some interesting things about you," Robert replied coolly without revealing his source of knowledge. So this was the cowboy that Clarice was so affronted by. He could see why: no sense of fashion, gruff manor, with an aloof air about him that seemed to lack the ability to be intimidated.

"Can't say the same," Vaughn retorted.

Robert bit back a reply, determined not to make enemies so soon, or at least not to show it so openly, and said instead. "Well to answer your question, no there is no problem here. I was just admiring this young lady's dress." He turned to Lanna and gave her a smile. "You are the famous pop singer Lanna if I'm not mistaken?" Robert asked politely, softening his tone.

Lanna beamed and said excitedly, "Oh, I'm sooo excited to have another fan so soon! I knew this campaign to change my image would have an affect." She held her head in her hands and blushed, "but I had no idea of it happening so quickly."

"You got this dress from Chelsea, am I right?" Vaughn looked at him with renewed interest. "I believe last night's gown was one of her collection, too," he continued.

"Oh, why yes they are! However did you guess that?!"

Robert straightened himself with a sense of pride, "Oh, I know all of Chelsea's garments at first glance. I've been a fan of the lovely Madam Chelsea Rougue for many years," he added to seem less suspicious. Denny snickered. Well, Robert thought to himself, it was partly true anyway.

He continued in a more excited fashion, "I do not think you know the significance of this very dress, my dear. Of all the outfits she has ever owned, I know for a fact that this one is a particular favorite of hers."

"Oh? and how do you know that?" Lanna asked in a sweet, curious tone.

Robert, expecting them to be impressed by his revelation said, "This is the very gown she would wear for all of her concerts and recitals." When Lanna seemed confused and made no response he continued with affected shock. "Do you mean to tell me you do not know of her musical past?"

That got Lanna's attention. She put her hands on her hips and stared him down. "What are you talking about?! Do you mean to tell me Chelsea was a pop star, too?!"

"No, not exactly a pop star, though I always said she could have been." Lanna huffed at the idea of more competition but he ignored her. "She is a remarkable musician. Not only can she play the violin she also learned the art, to the great discontent of her mother, of dancing as she played, and has been celebrated as one of the most inspiring violinists of her age. She can play the very pieces Mozart himself would perform on the piano with such delicacy and precision, you could close your eyes and believe yourself that it was him reincarnated. And with her beautiful dramatic soprano she was often given solo parts in her choir, and all other voices would pale in comparison to hers."

By this time all four of them were sitting down around table. Though Lanna was enraptured by Robert's enthusiasm in his praise for Chelsea (except for the singing part and "other voices pale" comment), Denny was a little uncomfortable. As Robert went on and on, Denny looked to Vaughn for his reaction, but couldn't determine it. That scowl was used to express way too many emotions.

"I have a fantastic idea!" Robert exclaimed, bringing Denny back to the conversation. Robert clapped his hands together and looked at Lanna excitedly. "We should plan a concert on the island! Anyone could join in, but you and Chelsea could be the headliners. Maybe you two could even do a duet!"

"Oh, that's a fantastic idea!" Lanna exclaimed, almost as excited as Robert was. "I am taking a break from the pop-star life, but it would be excellent practice!" Denny cringed; he still remembered the last performance Lanna had given him. He would definitely encourage her to practice… when he wasn't there of course.

"I'll bet that with a few phone calls, I could convince her old music professors to part with a violin. I went to many of her concerts and introduced myself to them on such occasions. I'm sure they would be thrilled to give her a chance to play again. Great musicians understand the importance of music."

"Great, so Chelsea could do her solo piece with the violin while I do my solo piece singing." Lanna said relieved by his suggestion for her to play the violin rather than sing.

"Hmm… though there is a problem…." Robert began, hoping to catch Lanna in his little scheme.

"A problem?" she asked.

He folded his arms and pretended to think hard. "Yes… well, you have some fantastic clothing worthy of the stage at your disposal, but Chelsea only has her work clothes at the moment. And if she's to be a headliner…."

"Ah yes, I see your point. Appearance is very important up there. But what can we do?"

Robert pounded his fist into his hand. "I know," he said, "We could have her wear her concert dress, just like old times, if you wouldn't mind parting with it, of course."

"It's not that I don't agree with you," she replied, "but I already offered her to keep at least one dress, and she turned me down." Lanna looked up in thought, placing a finger by chin. "How can we convince her to take it back?"

"So then you'll agree to return her black gown?" Robert asked politely. This was the fruition of his plan from the moment she walked in. This dress was for Chelsea to wear and Chelsea only! Little did he know that Vaughn secretly agreed with him.

"Oh of course! I can understand how attached a girl can get to what she performs in."

"And every woman should have something for nice occasions, don't you agree?" he replied in a jokingly sly way.

"Oh absolutely!" she giggled. "The question still remains how we convince her though. I don't think she'll take it back even if I ask her to."

"I think I know someone who could convince her." Denny said, joining the conversation. Robert and Lanna both looked perplexed, to which he returned a mischievous grin. Without saying a word, Denny turned his eyes to Vaughn.

Vaughn, who had been paying very little attention to this part of the conversation, looked up abruptly.

"No."

"Vaughn…," Denny teased.

"NO!" Vaughn started to turn red.

"Come to think of it," Lanna said, "That might actually work. You're so abrasive and blunt I'm sure she wouldn't be able to say no to you, Vaughn."

"This is ridiculous!" Vaughn barked, throwing his hands up into the air. "I'm not going along with this stupid plan of yours."

"Oh c'mon, Vaughn, don't you want to hear Chelsea perform?" Lanna pleaded.

"Yeah, don't you want to hear Chelsea sing?" Denny asked, his smile broadening.

Vaughn sat back in his chair and was silent. "Fine," he mumbled at last. Robert watched him carefully from the corner of his eye. Vaughn looked up and pointed a finger across the table, "but none of you follow me!"

"But what if you need our help and—," Lanna began.

"NONE!"

"Fine. Just stay here, then. I'll be right back after I change out of it," and with that Lanna was out the door towards her house.

Denny took the opportunity to tease Vaughn about some inside joke. Vaughn tried to silence Denny with insults but nothing worked. Robert remained silent across the table watching the two men, keeping a very careful eye on the cowboy. This part of his plan had gone awry. He had hopped to convince the others to let him bring deliver it. What could Vaughn do to convince Chelsea into keeping the dress that he could not? Clarice will be very interested in the results of this, he thought to himself.

In a few moments Lanna returned wearing her usual attire with the dress on a hanger. She handed it to Vaughn and thanked him. He took the dress from her grip and marched out the door without a word. Lanna looked to Denny with concern but Denny just burst out laughing, making her giggle, too. Robert started to head out the door after him but Denny stopped him.

"Oh no you don't," he said grabbing Robert's arm and taking him back to the table. "If we don't get to watch then neither do you."

"Besides," Lanna chimed, "you have to help us plan the details of the concert. Now, how are we going to get the word out…?"

Robert was a bit irritated to be stopped, but relented and sat back down to plan the event, his mind awhirl with thoughts of Chelsea and what that cowboy would do.

* * *

Vaughn walked down the path at a brusque pace, cursing himself along the way. Why the hell did he agree to this? This was stupid. Though he didn't like the idea of anyone but Chelsea wearing this dress, he hadn't imagined that he would have to hand it to her. This was just…gah! Vaughn's mind whirled these thoughts around over and over. Before he knew it he was in front of her house. It took him several moments before he could take the last few paces to the front door. He hid the dress behind him with one shaking hand and knocked on the door with the other.

* * *

Chelsea was in her pajamas, long sleeved with blue and white striped patterns on the pants and button up top. She was sitting up relaxing in bed and nursing a cup of hot chocolate and beginning to nod off when she heard a knock on the door. "Just a minute!" she called. Without checking to make sure her pajama shirt was buttoned all the way up she slid her bare feet into her slippers and pulled a wool blanket over her shoulders.

She opened the door to see Vaughn standing very rigid in front of it, one arm behind his back. His head was down and his hat pulled very low. All she could see of his face was his chin, which for some reason was the shade of cherry. She cocked her head and replied, "Hello, Vaughn. Um… what brings you here so late?"

He pulled the dress from behind his back and extended his arm its full length, so quickly that Chelsea rocked back on her heels.

"This is yours," he said gruffly.

"Yes… it was…. Where did you get this Vaughn?"

"Lanna."

"Oho," Chelsea chuckled, "I remember she was wearing this one today. Wait… if she was wearing this today then how did you…." Chelsea left her sentence unfinished, not sure if she really wanted to know.

"N-No! I did nothing!" Vaughn yelled. He took a deep breath tried to reply smoothly, though it came out in a voice as shaky as his hands, "She handed it to me at the diner." He lifted his head slightly, looking at her feet. Upon seeing pant bottoms with blue and white stripes and slippers with cow patterns on them, he realized she was dressed for bed. This did not help. Vaughn was now the lovely shade of tomato.

"Look!" he said suddenly, pushing it at her again. "Just take it!" There was an uncomfortable pause. "You…you're the only one who should wear this…."

A smile quirked on Chelsea's lips; she had never expected something like this from Vaughn. She wasn't sure how to respond, so she just gingerly held the hanger by its sides and tugged slightly to signal to him that it was in her hands. She knew this was hard for him to do, and wondered if someone had put him up to it, but it was still very hard not to giggle at his awkwardness. He let go and let his hand fall slowly to his side. He stood there and said nothing more.

They stood in an uncomfortable silence for awhile, neither of them willing to move, and Vaughn unwilling to look up. Chelsea's blanket, no longer being held about her shoulders in place with her hands now preoccupied with the dress, slipped and fell to the floor. Without thinking, Chelsea bent down to pick it up again, which was within Vaughn's limited plain of view. Vaughn's eyes flicked to the very slight opening at the top of her pajamas. All he could see was dark, but his imagination filled in the gaps and he turned to the side with a yelp. Not realizing what had occurred, Chelsea looked at him curiously when she saw him turn.

"You OK?" she asked. Vaughn just shook his head.

He really was acting strangely Chelsea thought to herself, and she began to worry. Slinging the dress over one arm, she stepped up behind him and put her hand up on his shoulder. Vaughn jumped at her touch and she pulled away. He cleared his throat and looked down at his feet.

"Be honest, why do you want me to keep this dress, Vaughn?" He made no response or move. Growing serious, she ducked down until she could see his face below his hat. His eyes were closed and he had a funny look on his face she couldn't place. "Vaughn?"

He opened his eyes to see hers looking back at him. Startled, he moved backwards until he regained his balance, then turned and marched away from the house.

"Just keep it!" he yelled. "Don't let me hear that you've thrown it away!"

Chelsea just stared at his retreating figure. When she could no longer see him, she blinked twice and a small smirk quirked the right side of her mouth.

She looked down at the dress in her hands. Chelsea let out a long sigh. Well, she thought to herself, I guess one dress won't hurt. And it was, after all, the one she was most partial to. Walking back into the house she hung the dress in the very back of her clothing cabinet.

She put the hot chocolate mug into the sink and walked over to her bed where she took her slippers off, climbed under the covers and used the blanket from around her shoulders as an extra layer of warmth. Two words drifted into her mind before she lost consciousness; weird day.


	11. Birthday Surprise

"The Cheese Maker you ordered is finished," Gannon said. "Just thought I'd let you know." And with that he left.

Chelsea waved goodbye to him and set off on her usual chores. Before long she was finished and went to Chen's to check for Wonderfuls. She decided to go say hello to Denny and give him one of grilled fish she had worked on last night. For some reason, upon seeing Chelsea Denny laughed for nearly a minute without breathing. When she asked him what was so funny, he just waved his hand at her.

Eventually he stopped laughing long enough to thank her for the fish. She smiled and said she made it last night, which made Denny double over for a second round. She sighed, knowing that he would probably be laughing for a long while yet. She yelled goodbye over his laughter and went to Mirabelle's.

Chelsea stepped in and looked for Vaughn. Even though last night had been weird, it didn't change her routine of delivering milk to him on his days here. She found him in the back staring at the wall. She tried to say hello to him but he did not turn or tip his hat. She started to thank him for delivering the dress last night, but before she could get more than two words out he stopped her.

"Stop talking to me. You're annoying," he said, pointing his finger at her.

Chelsea froze in place and Vaughn turned back to the wall, crossing his arms. It had been a long time since she had gotten that response from him. For a moment she was afraid that she had done something wrong. Maybe it was when she tried to touch his shoulder? She took a deep breath and decided not to let it get to her. Without another word she placed the milk next to his feet and left him there.

As Chelsea walked away to talk with Julia, Vaughn mentally kicked himself. He hadn't meant to be so harsh, but he was afraid he was getting too close to Chelsea. He had slept fitfully at the inn last night, which only served to make him more irritable than usual. He stared at the wall as he listened to Chelsea and Julia's voices in the other room. He looked down to his left and saw the milk by his feet. He gave himself another mental kick.

Just then someone burst through the shop door. "Hellloooooooo!"

Chelsea and Julia poked their heads around the wall, and Mirabelle came to the counter to greet whoever had entered. Robert walked into the room and made his way to the counter. He had a stack of papers in his hand. He took one from the stack and planted it on the counter in front of Mirabelle.

"I was wondering if you would be willing to put this up for your customers to see. Lanna and I are planning a little festival of sorts, and we're trying to get the word out."

"Hello, Robert," Julia said, walking into the room. "What are the posters for?"

"A concert!" Robert exclaimed. "Anyone is allowed to participate, but Lanna will be the headliner."

"Oh, that sounds like fun! When is the concert going to be?"

"The date is still 'to be announced' but I hope it will be soon." Robert answered. Then he spotted Chelsea leaning against the wall on the other side of the room. The cowboy was here, too. Perfect, he thought to himself. He skipped across the room to her. "Oh Chelsea! There you are! Did you hear about the concert?"

"Yes, I was standing right here." She laughed.

He grabbed her hands and held them in his. He looked deep into her eyes and said, "You could play in the concert, too. Aren't you excited?"

Chelsea froze up for a moment, but relaxed herself. She had gotten so used to hiding the details of her previous life. Well, there was no reason for it now, she thought. After all, it was her parents she had been hiding from. She smiled at him and said, "I don't think so. I'm really out of practice. Besides," she added, remembering Lanna, "this will be a good chance for Lanna to really shine. I think I'll just watch."

Robert's shoulders sagged, and looked at her with puppy-dog eyes. She laughed and tried to pull her hands out of his. Reluctantly he let go of them, but only to put his hands on her shoulders and beg her again to reconsider. He was very persistent, but she stayed firm in her decision; she didn't very much like the idea of upsetting Lanna if she ended up having the better performance.

Vaughn, who had tried to ignore the transactions had turned around and was not glaring at the back of Robert's head. Chelsea glanced at him with a slightly pleading look but Vaughn looked away.

Julia finally came to her rescue and asked Robert a question about how to participate which made him turn to face her. Chelsea took the opportunity to slip out the door and all but broke out into a run to the east side of town.

Truth be told she had something very special in mind today. She made her way to the hotel, but not before congratulating Lanna about the concert. Lanna was more than willing to explain all of the details about the concert. The only thing she did left out was the plan to make Chelsea the other headliner in the concert. She desperately wanted to talk to Chelsea about it so that she could ask about practicing together, but Robert has explicitly said to keep it a secret until her instrument came. Eventually they parted and Chelsea continued to the hotel.

She stepped inside, saying hello to everyone in the lobby, and made her way to Mark's room. Mark, as usual, was walking around his room deep in thought. Mark turned when he heard the door close to see Chelsea standing there. He smiled and greeted her, asking how the farm was doing. She smiled, replying that everything was fine and then did something Mark did not expect.

"Happy Birthday," she said. Mark's mouth dropped open as she pulled out a large tall box from behind her. He really needed to get a backpack like hers that could hide virtually everything.

She handed it over and he placed it on the bed. "You really didn't need to get me anything, you know," he commented as he unwrapped the box.

"I know, but I think you're going to need what's inside." It was a brand new hoe, used for tilling fields. "It can't equip more than two Wonderfuls, I know, but I put a green one on it, and you'll be able to reserve your strength that way."

Mark turned to her, astonished, "But… you know I don't have any land of my own yet."

Chelsea laughed and replied, "I know, but if you remember our conversation a few days ago, I'm going to need help this spring. How about it, Mark? Would you like to work as a farmhand on my ranch for a while?"

Mark was elated. "Oh yes, yes, YES! That'd be so awesome!" He rushed over to her and gave her a fierce hug. They both blushed and pulled away awkwardly. Mark put his hand behind his head and laughed nervously, "Sorry, I guess I got carried away."

Chelsea laughed too and said, "Haha, that's okay. I'm glad you're eager to help. It'll make things easier to manage on the farm. With your help I might even be able to produce more crops than before, and the island will surely benefit from it."

"Yeah, that's even better. So when do I start? The first day of spring, right?"

"Yup, the first day of spring. I can come over before then and explain what needs to be done if you want."

"No, that's okay," Mark replied. "You're busy enough as it is. I'll go and ask Taro in my spare time."

Chelsea giggled; Mark had nothing but spare time. Well, not anymore he wouldn't. But it would be good for him. Something told Chelsea that he was slowly going mad having nothing to do but wander his room. They chatted for a little while longer. Mark thanked her again for the gift, and Chelsea left the hotel.

* * *

Vaughn wandered the forest deep in thought. The dog pack had already come and gone, and he didn't have much left to do. He still felt bad about snapping at Chelsea, but confused at the same time. Was it the lack of sleep that had made him so irritable, or the resentment he felt for being sent on that silly errand? Vaughn shook his head; a headache was beginning to form in his front temples. He took his hat off and rubbed his forehead where it hurt.

Just after Chelsea left and Robert had finished answering Julia's question, he turned his attention to Vaughn. Giving Vaughn a sidelong glance, he casually said, "Out of curiosity, what is your relationship with Chelsea?"

The question surprised Vaughn, but he didn't show it. "Nothing," he said. "We're just friends."

"Oh… I see," Robert replied in an unconvinced tone. "Well then, you wouldn't mind if I tried going after her, would you?"

Vaughn turned and glared over his shoulder. "Do what you want. It's not my business."

Robert stood and studied him a bit longer before he replied. "Good. I'm glad we have an understanding." With a grin he turned and left the shop.

Vaughn rubbed his forehead a bit more and sighed. Putting his hat back on he looked out towards the thick forest vegetation. Suddenly he heard footsteps behind him. "Go away," he said without turning to see who was approaching him. "I'm not in a talkative mood right now."

"Still?" said a small voice.

Vaughn whirled to see Chelsea standing a few paces away from him. She looked at him sadly, then side and said, "Okay…." She turned around and headed deeper into the forest.

Vaughn just stood and watched her slowly walk away, looking dejected. He cursed under his breath for such bad timing, and when she was far enough away not to hear him, he followed her. She walked deep into the forest where the trees were thin enough to see the river. She sat down next to a tree trunk and hung her feet over the ledge. After awhile her shoulders sagged forward.

Vaughn slowly approached her, careful not to make any sounds with his footsteps. When he was only a few steps away, he spoke.

"Sorry," he said quietly.

Chelsea turned, surprised to see him standing there. Slowly her features switched from surprise to a small smile, and she patted the ground next to her. He walked forward and sat next to her, letting his legs hang over the side, too.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I just… didn't get much sleep last night."

"It's okay," she replied. She leaned next to the tree and they sat in silence, looking out at the water.

"So, you're not going to perform in the concert?" Vaughn asked, breaking the silence.

Chelsea straightened and smiled, "I thought we agreed that I shouldn't give Lanna competition." Vaughn chuckled at this. Then Chelsea sighed, "No, I don't think I'll participate. I think I'd prefer to watch everyone else perform."

"Didn't you say that you missed music?" he asked.

"I do. But it's not the only thing I have that makes me happy anymore. Maybe I just won't realize how much I miss it until I see people perform, but I'm okay for now. Besides, my animals are an excellent audience." Vaughn smirked.

They sat in peaceful silence again as the sun went down over the mountain. Vaughn cleared his throat and said, "I'd… like to hear you sing sometime."

Chelsea blushed and looked down. "Well, maybe someday." Then she laughed. "Or maybe you could just catch me singing to my cows out in the fields."

When the sun began to set over the mountain they stood up to walk back together. After a short while Chelsea looked up at Vaughn and asked, "Say, what do you think of Robert."

Vaughn stiffened and growled, "What about him?"

Chelsea chuckled at his tone a voice, "That bad huh? Yeah, he's a bit weird. To be honest, he freaks me out a little bit."

Relieved to hear this, Vaughn relaxed. They continued walking through the forest, now passing the path for the church. "I wonder what a guy like him is doing here," he replied.

"He said he's here because I am." Vaughn glanced down to see her grimace in the fading light. "He kind of reminds me of that guy who always wanders around at night, talking about Lanna."

"Hmph," was Vaughn's only reply. Chelsea gave a mock shiver that made him smirk. Going after Chelsea wasn't going to be as easy as Robert seemed to think it would be.

They crossed the bridge and continued on until they were in front of the inn. They said good night and parted ways, both happy to have things back to normal between them.


	12. Plans

~Note~ The older a violin is the better it sounds. I surfed the web for an actual 19th century violin, which has been called "The Golden Age" of violin crafting. The sheet music song is also real, and if you look it up on YouTube™ and with Celtic Woman, that performance is the dancing style I have in mind.( I am a musician myself, so these details are important to me.) To legally protect myself I claim no financial gain by stating these sources; it is simply to allow my readers a better understanding of my characters. I am not trying to endorse either of these things. Now that we've covered this, BACK TO THE STORY!

* * *

"Well? How does it feel? It's very old and a bit used, but I've heard that makes them better."

Chelsea stared at Robert in disbelief. In her hands was violin and its bow, both of which she could tell were very expensive. Actually, she was holding the case in which the two were kept, lid open and facing her, just as Robert had placed it into her hands.

"Robert…I can't take this…," Chelsea began awkwardly.

But Robert wasn't listening. He held his hands forward and exclaimed, "Wait! I almost forgot!" He rummaged around in his side bag, pulled out a large flat music folder and held it up excitedly. "Of course I know you can improvise on your own, but I thought it would be nice if you had some music to go by as well!" He held it out to Chelsea, a goofy smile on his face. She sighed, closing the violin case and set it beside her. She folded her arms and looked him square in the eye.

"Robert, I can't accept these things. It's not that I'm not grateful, but I hardly know you, and these things are all really expensive," she said with a concerned look on her face. "At the very least, I'd have to pay you back for most, if not all of the expenses, and I'm just not in a position to do spend my money on luxuries right now."

"Then let's try the bartering system," he said, waggling a finger in his free hand. He had expected this reaction, but he would not be deterred from his plans. "I'll make you a deal. You keep that violin and the music, and I'll take your participation in the concert at payment." Before she could protest he held his hand in a stop sign. "You wouldn't have to sing, you wouldn't even have to dance if you don't want to."

Chelsea gave out a long sigh, "Listen, Robert, my life in the city, which I know you are well aquainted with, was much different from the life I live on the island now. I don't have the free time for practicing that I used to."

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that," he replied. He cocked an eyebrow at her and said, "Don't you spend a lot of time talking to the people around the island?"

"How—."

"Oh, plenty of people have told me so," Robert answered, cutting her question off. When she gave him a funny look he shrugged his shoulders and said defensively, "Well there isn't much else to talk about on this island…." Chelsea groaned.

In an effort to change the subject, Robert took a step forward and gave her an honestly concerned look. "Look, Chelsea, you're right, I don't know what your life is like on the island. But I do know that music is a part of you. I'm sure if you took some of the time you travel the island to practice, it would make you happy. Please don't throw that part of you away. Please take the violin."

Robert gave her such a pleading look as he spoke that she finally relented. He let out a relieved sigh and, more calmly, handed her the sheet music. He started to leave, but halfway to the road he turned and yelled, "By the way, the papers of authenticity for the violin are in the folder. I'll keep you updated on the concert details. You may also want to talk to Lanna. She wants to practice your duet together."

As she watched him go down the road she looked between the violin case and the music, and wondered if she had been punked. With another heavy sigh she picked up her new possessions and took them inside. She placed the case and sheet music on the table and pulled the violin out to inspect it more thoroughly. It was a modern violin of the late 19th century and of Italian make. It bore the label of Giueseppe Scarampella, Fireze 1883. Picking up the sheet music, she saw that it was a song called "Granuaile's Dance," an incredibly complex piece. She then looked at the authenticity papers to learn the violin's maker was Eugenio Degani. A second surge of guilt overtook Chelsea and she considered giving it back to Robert. Why would he give her something as expensive as a 19th century violin? Was he that desperate for participants in the contest, or was it something else? Chelsea shook her head; it was weird enough that he was intimately knowledgeable about her past, she didn't want to think about it further. So she racked it up to the only conclusion that made sense; like Lanna, and like Pierre, she had a crazy fan.

* * *

"How did he get this paper?!" Clarice demanded.

"He requested it, ma'am," the nurse replied.

"How many times to I have to tell you people that he is not to have any paper to write on?! He is a sick man and does not need to be wasting his time on such trivial things."

The nurse let out an exasperated sigh; she was getting very tired of the wife's attitude. "Well ma'am, if you do not want him to have the paper, then you should keep an eye on him yourself. Since he, and not you, is my patient, I am required to bring him whatever he needs to be comfortable." She looked over to her patient at the bed, "You just let me know if you need anything else." He gave a weak nod and she left.

Franklin's health was falling for the worse still. Any extra energy he previously had to recover was now being used on ways to communicate with Chelsea. Clarice's arguments took the last of his energy. The Doctor had repeatedly recommended to his wife that she reduce her visits, but Clarice would have none of it. He had tried several times to write letters to Chelsea on the farm, and she intended to keep close watch over him. Each time his letters were discovered and destroyed. On one occasion an employee of his had brought his laptop to him, and with it he had tried to send emails to the board with his decisions. Once again Clarice foiled his attempts, telling the board that it was the ramblings of a sick man, delirious with pain, and that they should ignore any messages sent to them until he recovered.

Since then he had been put under supervision whenever the laptop was brought in. The paper had been taken away an hour ago, and the laptop had been returned (along with a watchful employee) to keep him entertained until Clarice could come and "address the issue" as she called it. He sat there sadly and surfed the web, looking up words like "farm" and from there "crops" or "farm animals." The employee watched the screen, bemused by what could compel the company CEO to such topics.

Clarice huffed as the nurse went away and turned back to the desk in the room. "You want to write Chelsea a letter? Fine, I'll write her a letter." And thus she began what would become a two-page rant to her daughter, stating her child's incompetence, foolishness, and so on.

Franklin ignored her and continued to browse the websites. Just then he got an idea. He looked up a specific store he knew on the internet and began searching for what he hoped would be a good clue. When the employee stepped out to fetch something for Clarice, Franklin quickly sent an online text to an employee he knew he could trust.

At length Clarice was done with her letter, not long before Franklin's assistant walked through the door. She stopped him and thrust the letter into his hands. "I want this delivered to Sunny Island as soon as possible." She motioned to her other employee who moved to follow her out the door to her cab. Before leaving she spat to the new-comer, "Watch Mr. Rougue until my assistant returns." With that she and her employee left.

Franklin weakly smiled to his assistant, who smiled back at him and walked over to his bedside. "How are you feeling sir?" he asked.

"As well as one could expect; poorly," Franklin croaked. "Listen, I want you to do me a favor. Something in secret, I don't want my wife to know." The assistant raised his eyebrows curiously and nodded, leaning forward. Franklin whispered something into his ear, and pointed at a picture on the screen. The assistant looked from the page to Mr. Rougue in surprise, but nodded again and promised to have it done personally. As told, the assistant stayed only until the other employee returned, and with one last reassuring look at Mr. Rougue, left to see to his tasks.

* * *

"Are you sure you want to spend your money on that, little missy?" Gannon asked.

"Yup, it's time," Chelsea replied happily. "All of the bridges were built a season ago. It's time to start on the next step to improving the island. And since this is the last day to buy a Wonderful from Chen's shop, I no longer need to keep this reserve of money I've been saving for them."

"Well, you're a good girl," Gannon said with a smile. "The people of this island sure do appreciate all your hard work. I'll have the Road from the Ranch done by tomorrow."

"Thanks, Gannon. See you tomorrow then." She gave him a wave and walked out the door. It will be a little tough, she thought to herself, but I'll do my best to upgrade a road a day. As she walked down the path to Mirabelle's she roughly organized her financial plans in her mind.

She walked into Mirabelle's shop to find Julia. They were becoming really good friends. Natalie was there today, talking with Julia and Mirabelle at the counter about something. Mirabelle spotted Chelsea as she came through the door.

"Oh, there you are sweetie, I have good news for you." She pointed to the list of purchasable items to indicate a new selection. "With all of the male farmers coming to live on the island, we finally have enough business to support selling sheep here. Vaughn's bringing them in on his next trip here."

Chelsea cheered and danced happily on the spot. It had taken more than a month to ship all of that mayonnaise, and it had finally paid off. Then she stopped and made a little grimace, folded her arms and focused her eyes on the floor in silence.

"What's the matter, dear?" Mirabelle asked worriedly.

"Oh, nothing," Chelsea replied. "This just changes my plans a little. I just started my campaign to fix the roads today, and I wanted to charge right on through it one day after the next."

"Oh, really? I'm so excited! New roads, that sounds great," Julia chimed.

"What does that have to do with getting a sheep?" Natalie asked.

"I'll need to add more feeding bins, that's what," Chelsea frowned. "Which means it'll have to happen between or after the roads."

"Just do what you can," Natalie shrugged. "The farm's what makes the money, so the farm comes first, right?"

"She's right," Julia said. "It won't be too big of a deal if the roads have to wait a day or two. You've had to wait much longer for the sheep to come in, right?"

Chelsea looked up and smiled, "You're right, both of you. I'll add a feeding been before the third, and then continue my work on the roads."

The girls spent some of the afternoon together, as Chelsea told them about Robert's gift and asked their opinion's on the subject. Before long, however, Chelsea had leave in order to get to the mines and back before five. "The money's got to come from somewhere," she said. Slinging her hammer over her shoulder, she set off.

* * *

That night before going to bed, Chelsea picked up the violin. She was so tired from both her time in the mines and the running in between destinations that her vision was a little blurry. Instead of trying to read the sheet music, she focused on tuning. She tested each string as carefully as she could and adjusted the turning pegs accordingly, with only hear musical ear to guide her accuracy. When she was satisfied she spent some time polishing it before putting it away again. She decided to leave actual practicing to tomorrow before the New Year's Eve festival… and when she could see strait again. She changed into her pajamas and no sooner has she settled herself in bed she was asleep.

~P.S.~ Sorry about the long wait everyone. This chapter had been written and ready to go for a couple of weeks. Due to a virus in my computer and almost losing the entire manuscript, it took about a week and a half to get it restored and back to normal. Thank you all for being patient, and expect the next chapter very soon!


	13. New Years EveCluck

As Chelsea got herself ready to begin her farm work for the day, she was very excited for the day's events; it was New Years Eve, and she was elated to be able to share it with all her friends on the island. She left the house and bustled from one animal building to the next, giving her animals extra love an attention and telling them that they could go outside very soon. She sang to them with more enthusiasm and vibrancy than normal. Spring was in the air, putting the animals in a cheery mood as well.

Her optimism was cut short when she returned to the house and opened the mailbox. A large brown envelope was waiting for her. She didn't know who it was from yet, but she could guess. With a sigh, she picked it up and walked into the house. Inside the package envelope was a smaller white envelope and several printed pages that looked like documents of some sort. She decided to take the bullet from the small envelope first, and began reading her mother's letter.

Clarice had several things to say. The letter itself was two pages long, and even more bitter than the previous one she received on Starry Night. She started off by a depressing and irritated account of Franklin's health, which had continued to deteriorate. He was losing motor control of his hands, which would shake when they tried to hold something (say, a pen) and had a case of depression that matched his feeble hands. She then continued to call Chelsea a number of things: useless, incompetent, ungrateful, selfish, and many other adjectives that would have pulled Chelsea's heart strings if said by anyone else. But as Chelsea was used to this and felt that the insults directed at her were actually personal shortcomings of her mother, she let them slide off her shoulder.

There was, however, something in the second page of the letter that left Chelsea with hurt feelings. The second page was filled with details of her parent's activities on the Starry Night Festival, including the large party that usually followed. True to her word in the last letter, Clarice had gone out of her way to tell every one of her disgraceful daughter's disgusting work on a farm, and declared her temporarily insane. It was not this that bothered Chelsea, but what came next. Clarice had also spent her time complimenting the children of friends and how she wished her child was like them. Chelsea had always known she was not her mother's favorite person to be around, but wishing for a different child left her with a sense of abandonment. To be cast aside as if she wasn't worth anything was a painful pill to swallow.

Chelsea sat in silence for awhile as she digested all the pieces of the letter. Determined to find a task to occupy her, she curiously pulled out the rest of the papers from the package envelope. On top was a short, printed business-style letter from her mother:

Chelsea,

Though I realize you still refuse your birth right, it's time you started pulling your own weight in this company. You are not rid of us yet, despite what you may think. This is normally your father's responsibility, but his illness prevents him from doing everything, and this is, after all, what you were trained for. Enclosed are the pieces chosen for each season to be displayed in the main studio in the city. You are to look over them and make all the notes of adjustment as (again) you were trained to do. Send it back as soon as you are finished, and don't expect this will be the last of it.

Co-CEO of _Rougue Studios_

Clarice Veronica de Rougue.

Chelsea flipped through the designs planned for the seasons and began the monotonous chore. She went into auto pilot, making points here and there on what should be changed and what only needed slight alteration. It was the better part of an hour and a half before she finished. By the end of it she was irritated, bitter and silent; the minor task sent from her past had succeeded in bringing back a bit of her old self. She sat back in her chair and took a couple of deep slow breaths, breathing through the stomach. Once she was calmer, she glanced over at the clock to see that it was only a half past one.

The festival wouldn't start until 6pm, and she didn't want to arrive in such a bitter mood. She sat at the table and pondered what she could do to bring back some of her former cheer. Since the chore had revived a bit of her old self, it didn't take her long to reach for her old escape. Picking up the violin, she placed it under her chin, readied the bow, and began practicing her scales. She was a bit rusty so the notes at first came out quite poorly, but before long she corrected her movements and managed to pull some beautiful notes out of the instrument. Chelsea's mouth quirked to form a small smile; weird though he was, she would have to think of a way to thank Robert for the gift.

Just then there was a knock at the door. Chelsea put down the violin and curiously opened the door to see who it could be.

"Good day, Ma'am," said a stranger standing there.

"Good day," Chelsea said politely. "Can I help you with something?"

"Oh, no, just delivering a last minute package. I'm with the mail service, you see. We were just about to set off again when one of the crew spotted a little package left behind and addressed to your farm." The package he was speaking of was tucked safely under his right arm. He pulled it out and handed it to her with a smile.

"Thank you very much," she responded.

"Not at all, ma'am," he tipped his hat and before leaving added. "Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year," she smiled and closed the door.

She set the package on the table and began to open it. Inside was a bundle surrounded by bubble wrap, and a small postcard sitting on top. She turned it over and recognized the handwriting of her father's favorite assistant. She liked the man, too; he was kinder than most people who worked for the company, and twice as loyal. She read the letter:

Dear Miss Chelsea,

Your father has been unable to write letters as of late, but wanted to wish you well and a Happy New Year. He also had me pick this up. He said it had something to do with your previous discussion. I asked him but he only said 'it's a clue.' Perhaps you'll know what it means?

From the "office" of:

Franklin de Rougue

P.S. Mr. Franklin sends his love and best wishes.

Chelsea smiled. I knew I always liked him, she thought to herself. With renewed curiosity, she looked towards the package and removed the bubble wrap, popping a few as she did so. Chelsea beamed from ear to ear when she finally uncovered her present. Inside was a plush full grown chicken and baby chick sitting together. She pulled it out of the box and nuzzled the beak with her nose. Then she giggled when she realized how confused his assistant must have been to send this. Unfortunately, like him, she didn't know what it meant. She puzzled over it for a little while longer, staring into its little black eyes, but wasn't able to think of anything. Now in a happier mood, she decided to get some real practicing time in before the festival.

She put the chicken on her pillow and returned to her violin. She started off with slow chromatics, and then picked up the speed as she gained confidence in the sound. After awhile she switched to movement drills, or choreography, in which she would step in certain ways and times in between chromatic ups and downs. She continued practicing until 5pm, at which time she put her violin away and set off towards the festival grounds, whistling the most recent tune she had practiced.

* * *

At first when Chelsea began to cross, she couldn't see anything. But as she reached the peak of the bridge she saw several lights in the distance. Taro had instructed everyone attending the festival to bring a lantern from the house. That way they would have enough light to see around the main table.

Chelsea saw a light turn on behind her and turned to discover Julia and Mirabelle smiling behind her. Mirabelle held their lantern and went at her own pace as Julia went ahead with Chelsea and her lantern. They chatted together happily, both excited about the festival's events. When they reached the main group, Chelsea handed her lantern over to Felicia who hung it on one of the posts they had set up to hold them. Julia waved to Chelsea and walked off to join Elliot at the table. Natalie rolled her eyes and Chelsea giggled.

She talked with Felicia and Natalie for awhile when she spotted Taro and Mark in the distance. Judging by his face, Chelsea could tell he was dictating one of his lessons, and Mark was absorbing every ounce of it with a look of eager concentration. She walked over and greeted them both. When Taro asked, she addressed them both while she explained what her seed planting plans were for tomorrow. She gave Mark some instructions on what to bring, what she would lend him, and when to arrive. When he asked about the New Years Day festival, she assured him that if they worked industriously they would be done before noon.

Mark asked about how to plant seeds again, and as Taro fell into another lecture Chelsea slinked off to greet more people. She walked towards the main table where Chen was cooking the buckwheat noodles. Along the way she said hello to Charlie and Eliza, who were playing some sort of game together. Gannon was off in the distance watching Eliza play with a gentle smile on his face. Upon seeing Chelsea wave he gave her a big grin and waved back.

Now at the table, Chelsea greeted Chen. He said hello and told her that the noodles still had a ways to go, also assuring her that he would make the announcement when the noodles were ready. Surprised not to see Pierre close by giving him gourmet instructions, she scanned the festival grounds for him. Finally, she spotted him in the distance talking with someone. As she approached she realized that it was Shea, with Wada close by looking around, on alert for wild animals.

Chelsea joined their conversation and wasn't surprised that the topic was food. It adjusted very slightly to the food Chelsea made on her farm; Pierre complimented it and Shea remarked on her strange ways of gathering it. After some time Natalie approached the group and she and Pierre went off towards the main group together. It didn't take long for Shea's attention to shift, as he too started looking to the trees for possible predators. This made Chelsea laugh, but quietly as not to startle them; one spear at the neck was enough, she thought to herself, remembering their first meeting.

She too walked back towards the main table, looking for more people to pass the time with. She spotted Alisa and Nathan, both with heads down and hands up in prayer. When Chelsea asked what they were up to, Nathan smiled and said they were thanking the Goddess for the meal they were about to have. Alisa quietly asked if she would like to join them. Chelsea smiled and said that she would. Though she thought they must look a bit silly with their heads down like that, she remained and prayed with them, but not for the food. Secretly, she thanked the Goddess for bringing her to the island, for the real friends she had made here, and with a smile prayed for a good harvest next season.

Once she was finished she left them to their devices and went in search of anyone she had missed. With an idea, she looked towards the river, and sure enough there were Denny and Lanna. Though they weren't fishing, as Chelsea approached and heard their conversation she realized they were still talking about fish. She shouted to get them to turn around. They both smiled and waved at her. Just then they heard a bell and all looked to see Chen was signaling that the food was ready. Chelsea stayed where she was as she waited for Denny and Lanna to cross the distance between them. Once together they included her in the conversation, and they all sat together at the main table. Lanna was happy she was next to Chelsea at the table, because it meant she could talk to her about the upcoming concert.

"It's going to be so much fun," she continued on as Chelsea ate and listened politely. "I've already had some other people sign up to participate. Of course, you and I will go last so that we don't intimidate the other villagers. Robert said the lineup of the last three performances should go you, then me, then our duet."

"Actually," Chelsea spoke up, "I'm surprised not to see him here today. He has sort of taken on a little habit of stalking me. Now I know how Vaughn feels." Denny roared with laughter.

"Oh, I guess he didn't tell you," Lanna replied, ignoring Denny who was now pounding the table in addition to laughing. "He said he had to go to the city. Something about a fashion show, or party, or something like that, but that he would be back by the second of Spring."

Chelsea let out a little sigh of relief. Robert didn't seem like a bad person per say, but there was something about him that made her uncomfortable. Whether it was his eagerness to talk to her, the lavish gifts, or that he always seemed to be somewhere nearby she wasn't sure. All three, she decided.

Once Denny had finally stopped laughing their conversation continued, this time including Denny, whose opinion of Robert was similar to her own. She was glad she wasn't the only one who thought so, although Lanna didn't understand why they felt so strange around him. Denny and Chelsea exchanged knowing glances behind Lanna.

When the meal was finished they all gave a round of applause and Taro stepped up to the center of the group. He thanked Chen and Charlie for the wonderful buckwheat noodles, which excited another round of applause. Next he instructed everyone to collect their lanterns and to turn them either low or off for the next part of the festival, which was to be stargazing in smaller groups. As Chelsea walked among the scattered group of people she was pulled aside by Chen and Charlie.

"It looks like we have some left over…. Hey, Chelsea, why don't you take some home with you?" She smiled and nodded, thanking him as Charlie handed her the extra. As she slipped it into her pack Chen added, "We'll do this again next year. You're invited." She smiled and thanked them again, and they parted ways.

As everyone collected their lanterns the smaller groups began to form. Wada and Shea, who had brought candles instead of a lantern, were leaving to get back to the jungle as soon as possible. Mirabelle joined Felicia as Taro continued to coach Mark; Charlie was with his father Chen, and Eliza with her father Gannon. Alisa and Nathan stood together and looked up at the stars, hands still clasped in prayer. Julia with Elliot, Natalie with Pierre, and Lanna with Denny walked in three different directions, each couple holding hands.

Standing alone Chelsea watched all of the groups form and, not wanting to intrude on any of them, walked to the edge of river and sat down. Sitting alone and looking up at the stars, it reminded her a bit of her New Years celebrations in the past. The only difference was instead of being in a building looking out the window she was by a river bank. Chelsea shook her head in an attempt to erase the feeling. No, she said to herself, this year is completely different; she had enjoyed dinner with people she could actually call friends, and none of her smiles had been forced. She hugged her knees closer in an attempt to keep warm.

She heard footsteps behind her and turned her head over her shoulder. It was Mark. Sheepishly, he put his arm behind his head and asked, "Um, mind if I sit with you?"

Chelsea smiled and gestured next to her. He smiled and, still blushing slightly, sat down next to her. Together they looked up at the sky in silence. It was a nice and peaceful sky, with a few clouds here and there. Eventually Mark spoke up. "Do you know what a Kindred Spirit is, Chelsea?"

Chelsea was confused by the question. "Do you mean someone you're connected with, or someone you're romantic with?"

"Well," he began. "A Kindred Spirit is a person who thinks and feels the same way that you do. Someone with the same nature you do. But, it doesn't always mean someone you're romantic with. It's hard to explain." He turned to Chelsea and quietly asked, "Do you have someone special? Romantically, that is."

"Hmm… no, I don't think I do. What makes you ask?"

Mark smiled and cocked his head, "It wouldn't happen to be Vaughn, would it?"

Chelsea blushed and started, "What!? No! No… of course not… we're just friends." She took a deep breath that turned into a sigh. "Well… I don't really know. I don't think he sees me that way, and I don't want to do something that would ruin our friendship." Mark nodded understandingly. Chelsea cocked an eyebrow and turned to him. "What makes you so curious, Mark?"

"I-it's not like I'm curious or anything. I don't mean to intrude," he said as he waved his hands in front of him. "It's just that Taro said something about you and I being kindred spirits, that's all. And you know?" Mark said looking up at the sky, "I think he's right."

Chelsea pondered this for a bit. She did get along with him very well, and they both shared a passion for working a farm and raising animals, even in their hopes for the island to prosper. Mark was attractive definitely, but she wasn't attracted _to_ him. She expressed this, nervous that it might make him feel bad, but was relieved when he nodded his head and said he felt the same way. It was then that Chelsea had an idea.

"Hey Mark? Is there anyone on the island that _you_ like?"

Mark blushed and looked down at the ground, drawing circles in the snow with his finger. He murmured something that Chelsea didn't here, so he repeated it in a barely audible whisper. "S…Sabrina."

Chelsea beamed and started to tease him, which made Mark's whole face red. Then something dawned on Chelsea. "Is that why you asked me about Vaughn?" She laughed, "Was it a guess, or wishful thinking?"

Mark looked at her confused. "What do you mean?"

Chelsea shrugged. "Well, I don't know if it's true or not but Natalie says that she seems interested in him. During her walks to Pierre's house she's sometimes caught Sabrina watching Vaughn walk down the street."

Mark groaned, "If that's true, I don't stand a chance!" He sunk his head into his arms, which were resting on his knees.

"Don't sell yourself short, Mark!" Chelsea protested. "You're every bit as attractive as Vaughn is. Don't give up so easily. All you need to do is talk to her."

"You're just saying that," he said. "After all, you're attracted to Vaughn, too, aren't you?"

Chelsea shrugged and replied, "I already said I'm not sure about that, and I don't know how he feels. Besides that, we're friends first and foremost." Chelsea's expression mixed seriousness and sadness. "I think a friend is what he really needs."

Mark, feeling a bit better, sat up strait again and gave a weak smile, which Chelsea returned. Facing her he said, "Well, I guess I'll give it a shot and try talking to her more. But Chelsea, you shouldn't give up, either." When Chelsea shrugged and looked away he added, "I mean it!

"Well," Chelsea finally relented, "only time will tell."

Mark shrugged, "That's true. But if you do like him, don't be afraid to show it." After a short pause and the wind to remind them how cold it was, Mark stood up and said, "It's getting pretty late. We should probably go now."

Chelsea got up, too. "And we have a busy day tomorrow, after all."

Together they walked over the bridge. Mark asked if she wanted an escort home, but Chelsea waved her hand and said he would need all the rest he could get without back-tracking.

Mark held his hand out and smiled, "Well, good luck to us both as Kindred Spirits."

Chelsea smiled and shook his hand goodnight. "As Kindred Spirits," she said. And with that, they parted.

* * *

Chelsea arrived home at last and changed into her pajamas. She went to her fridge to put the buckwheat noodles away. She then went to her tool box and pulled out the extra seeds she had bought the previous year and began to plan. She didn't have quite enough of what she needed, but then again, what she was planning might break poor Mark's back in his first day of farm work. Slow and steady would be a better way to go. She would also have to calculate what his usual chores and wages would be, but decided to worry about that later. Well, that would settle over time. Chelsea let out a great yawn and decided that she had better go to bed. Closing the tool box, she walked over to her bed and settled herself in. She reached for the chicken plush and hugged it to her chest. In this position, she fell asleep.

P.S. Readers: Anyone want to guess what the chicken looks like? It's the plush you get when you pre-order the game. I have one myself and thought it would be fun to incorporate into the story. Gotta love the benefits of pre-order. For those of you who didn't, next time.


	14. Rice Cake Festival

"Morning, Mark!" Chelsea said in a perky voice. "Ready to get started?"

Mark let out a huge yawn and looked at her with bleary eyes. "Do you always get up this early?" he asked as he rubbed the sleepiness out of one of them.

"Pretty much," she replied without a hint of fatigue. Then she gave Mark a sympathetic look. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, having you start work on the First. Maybe you should start tomorrow instead?"

Mark jolted awake and exclaimed, "No, I'm fine! I can work today. It's just that we were up so late last night. I'll get used to it though, I promise."

Chelsea giggled at his determination. "Well, I won't make you come this early all the time," she said, thinking of the commute he had to make to the farm. "It's just that the first of Spring is one of my most important planting days. Now," she began, slinging her own hoe over her shoulder, "let's get started, shall we?" And with that they walked towards the fields.

They walked towards the river until finally reaching the bottom left corner of the plow able field. Chelsea pointed to it and said, "Starting from that corner, till a patch of 3x3. You'll do three more just like it, keeping a space between each patch. This way we can navigate between them when they grow taller. Make sense?" Mark nodded. Chelsea pulled out four bags of seeds and handed them to Mark. "Once that is finished go ahead and plant these. There are two bags of turnips and two of potatoes; plant the turnips closer to the water, okay?"

Mark nodded again. Then he paused and gave Chelsea a questioning look.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Well, what about watering?"

"Oh that," she laughed. "I'm pretty sure tilling the fields and planting the seeds will wipe you out faster than you think. I don't want you to push yourself too hard, you know."

"Don't worry about me. I can do it, no problem!" he declared with resolve.

"Well… okay," Chelsea said as she pulled out her watering can and handed it to him. "But only if the first two tasks don't kill you."

She left him to his work as she ran back to the stable. Even with Mark's help, she would have to double time it if she was going to get her work done before the festival. Quickly hugging Spark and letting her out to run around, she brushed Argan and took him outside, where she mounted and ran him to the barn. The grass needed more time to grow, so she fed and kept the herd inside, telling them she'd let them graze as soon as she could. The chickens she let out, however, and quickly rode to the entrance of the rice fields.

Five rows of mud paddies and many 3x3 sections in each, Chelsea had her work cut out for her. She was stronger now, though, and with a hoe that could work 3x3 at a time, she made quick work of the paddies. She tilled her way to the opposite side of the field, and then retraced her path, planting seeds as she went.

As Chelsea walked back to the normal planting grounds, she looked at her watch. Pleased to see that it was only 10am, she made her way to where Mark was working. There were now four 3x3 squares lined up and seeded just as she had specified. Seeing that only the turnips had been watered so far, she looked around for where Mark might be. Just then she heard Spark barking at the river, and walked over to see him lying on the slope. For a moment Chelsea feared that he had passed out from overworking, until he exhaled loudly in exhaustion.

Chuckling to herself she walked forward until she was looking straight down at him. "Told you," she laughed.

"I'm sorry, I was only able to water half of them," he breathed. "How did your work go?"

"Pretty well, the animals are fed, brushed, milked, chickens are outside, and the entire mud paddy field is planted."

Mark's eyes widened, "You don't even look tired! How do you do it?"

"It gets easier with practice," she said, offering him a hand. He took it and she pulled him up. She had to do most of the lifting, but eventually he was on his feet again.

"Wow, you're pretty strong," he commented. She simply smiled as she took the watering can and went to the un-watered potatoes with Mark in tow. He eyed her suspiciously. "You didn't take it easy on my in our boulder pushing contest, did you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she responded airily. With an effortless wave of her arm she watered an entire 3x3 square. In another flourish she did the same to the other. Mark gaped at her in wonder, which made Chelsea laugh. "This watering can has been upgraded," she explained, "but there's also a certain technique to it that I can teach you later."

"She motioned with her hand and together they walked back to the farmhouse. Suddenly Mark let out a surprised cry as he inspected his pockets. "Hey! I didn't have any money in my pockets earlier. How did this get here?"

"That's from the watering can. The Wonderful attached to it does that," Chelsea explained.

"But that's impossible… isn't it? I mean, how can a watering can put money in your pocket?"

Chelsea wrapped her arm about Mark's shoulders and patted him understandingly. "Ah, Mark, Mark, 'tis best not to question the Wonderfuls' Laws of Physics. It may seem a bit strange, but I decided to just go with it a long time ago. Heh, unless you don't want that money." Mark pulled away protectively covering his pocket.

When they reached the house, Mark went in first while Chelsea waited outside. He came out wearing his kimono for New Year's Day (blue, of course). Chelsea had told him to bring it when he came that morning to avoid having to make the detour to his hotel room to change. They switched places as Chelsea went inside to put on her own kimono. Finally, they were both ready and made their way to the Rice Cake Festival.

* * *

The festival area was filled with people. It looked as though the entire island had turned out for the celebration. There were several games and stalls opened, but Mark and Chelsea were only interested in one (one that all of their close friends were participating in); the Rice Cake Festival. It was being held in the center of the festival grounds, surrounded by the other stalls.

Giving a wave to anyone who saw them on the way, Mark and Chelsea made their way to Taro by the table. Taro greeted them and gave each a number indicating the order he would call for turns pounding the rice. An idea sparked in Chelsea's mind, but she decided to wait until she found Julia to put it to action.

Taro asked Chelsea how her planting had gone and Mark how his first day had been, to which they both answered politely. Satisfied, he dismissed them to greet people and reminded them to listen carefully for when their numbers were called. As they moved away Chelsea and Mark smirked at each other; Taro would have no trouble being heard over the noise.

Searching for their friends in the crowd, Mark let out an excited yip and ran forward. Following his line of vision, Chelsea spotted Sabrina wearing a light purple kimono. Amused by his enthusiasm, she followed at a slower pace.

"Oh hello, Chelsea," Sabrina greeted when Chelsea finally reached them. Mark had a shy smirk on his face he was trying to conceal. "Did you two come together?" she asked.

"Only because it was convenient," Chelsea replied with a friendly smile. Not wanting to be the one to ruin Mark's chances or Sabrina's interest, she made the reason as platonic as possible. "Today was his first day of work on the farm."

"Oh, really? That's great," Sabrina smiled. "I've been worried you've been doing all of the farming by yourself. I'm glad you have someone to help." Mark and Sabrina exchanged friendly smiles for different reasons.

"By the way," Chelsea asked, suddenly curious. "Were you at the New Year's Festival last night? I don't remember seeing you."

"Oh, yes, about that," Sabrina began. She let out a little sigh. "I'm afraid my father has been working a little too late into the night for the past few. He was starting to feel under the weather, so I had to force him to stay in bed last night. I was worried that he might try to sneak back to his desk while I was gone, so I stayed home."

"Is he still resting or is he here?" Chelsea asked.

"Oh, he's here. Sleeping for once actually did him a world of good, so I deemed him healthy enough to come today," Sabrina giggled. Then she acquired a thoughtful look, "But speaking of him, I wonder where he is now. I should probably make sure he's okay…."

"Can I come, too?" Mark asked. "I'd like to see that Regis is okay, too."

Sabrina smiled happily, "Sure, you're more than welcome to come along."

"You two go ahead," Chelsea said. "I think I'm going to go find Julia. I need to talk to her about something."

"Okay," Sabrina replied, then turned to Mark. "Shall we?"

Mark smiled and offered his arm to her, which she accepted gracefully. Walking into the crowd, Mark mouthed a silent "thank you" over Sabrina's head.

Chelsea waved one final goodbye and searched the crowd for her tall blond friend. Finally she spotted Julia and Elliot in the distance and made her way over. Elliot was wearing a traditional dark blue kimono, while Julia's was white with a cherry blossom pattern. Though everyone was wearing something other than their usual attire, the color schemes remained the same. She greeted them both and joined the group they were conversing with.

While Elliot was distracted, Chelsea whispered to Julia. "Hey, can I borrow you for a sec? I need a favor." Julia nodded.

"I'll be right back, okay Elliot?" Elliot nodded and continued to describe to Denny (in purple) and Lanna (in green) the store they had ordered the kimonos from. A couple of weeks prior to the winter festival, Felicia had sent request forms around the entire island for anyone who wanted a kimono for the New Year's Festival. People who filled out forms returned them with an envelope containing money to pay for their requested garment.

Now pulled aside from the others, Julia asked Chelsea what the favor was. "I was thinking… Vaughn's birthday is the third, right?" Julia nodded again. "I wanted to make him something special, and I was going to go with a cake, but then I saw the rice...."

Understanding brightened Julia's expression. "Oh, that's a great idea! Vaughn will be so shocked, I hope I'm there to see his face," Julia laughed. "Okay, what do you need me to do?"

"Just distract Taro long enough for me to scoop out some rice. There was a lot of extra buckwheat last night, so I'm sure they're bound to have extra again." They gave each other a thumbs up and slinked off to the rice cake stand.

While Chelsea hid to the side, Julia stepped up to Taro to begin the distraction. "Taro, I heard that you know a lot about animals. So I was curious, can you tell the difference between one cow and the next?"

"Of course I can, lil' missy!" he said proudly. "You see, as I'm sure you already know, each cow has a different spot pattern. Now at first…."

Chelsea crept closer and closer to the rice. Julia, using her position opposite him, maneuvered Taro until he was completely turned away from the usu (the traditional mortar the rice was in). Seizing the opportunity she rushed forward, scooped the rice into a bowl and moved away just as quickly. No sooner had Chelsea disappeared did Julia finish her conversation with Taro.

Julia returned to check her success. Chelsea smiled and showed her the bowl, which was now covered to keep it clean and from spilling its contents in her bag. Taro, blissfully unaware of what had transpired, began calling numbers to begin the rice pounding.

Chelsea and Julia returned to the group which had now turned into more of a circular line, as they lined up to take their turns with the rice whilst continuing their conversations. Lanna, Denny, Elliot, Julia, Pierre, Natalie, Chelsea, and even Mark and Sabrina were now all in one big meshed group that slowly inched it's way down the line. They each took turns pounding with the wooden mallet until it was ready to turn into rice cakes. Pierre demonstrated to the others how to get a perfectly round shape. After much laughter, goofing off, and many imperfect tries as they struggled to mimic Pierre's, in the end only Natalie and Chelsea had managed to make their rice cakes perfectly round.

The adults were at a separate table. Chen, Mirabelle, Felicia, Taro, Gannon, Regis, and Nathan sat together and discussed the progress of their businesses, or church in Nathan's case. Alisa, who had been too shy to join the others her age, instead elected to say close to Nathan, and was now listening quietly. Every now and then the laughter from the other table would draw their attention for a moment, but they would just smile and continue on.

Charlie and Eliza were the only ones not at a table. Instead they were sitting on a bench, cradling their rice cakes and talking to each other about some game they had played the previous night.

It eventually came to the point where everyone was full and couldn't manage to eat another rice cake. They joined as a group one last time to wish each other a happy new year, and then began to make their individual departures. Taro came up to Chelsea and gave her all of the extra rice cakes, saying something about "Felicia's orders," and about his daughter "worrying she didn't get enough to eat." Chelsea smiled and thanked him.

Silently she was glad her hunch had been right. She would have felt bad if they had come up short because of the small bit she had taken. Normally it wouldn't have been necessary to smuggle something from a festival, but the rice had renewed her hope of giving Vaughn porridge on his birthday. Call it stalking or coincidentally being in the same diner, she had often seen him order porridge and understood it to be his favorite. After last fall when her rice didn't finish in time she had dropped the hope of being able to produce it for another year. She was very happy to have found another way to make it possible.

Chelsea wanted to check one more thing before she went home for the night. She searched the crowd for Mark. At length she spotted him still with Sabrina and listening intently to something Regis was explaining. Regis didn't look angry to have Mark in his daughter's presence, which was a relief. The man was incredibly protective of his daughter. As long as he didn't look displeased, Mark still had a shot. Chelsea smiled, thinking that Mark would have to "court" Regis as well as Sabrina.

Chelsea made her way back to the farm. Looking up into the sky, she predicted that it would probably rain the next day. She returned her chickens to the coop, and brought her horse and dog inside. Spark, however, was more interested in following Chelsea to the house, and after a long pleading look happily got her way. Inside, Chelsea practiced her violin a bit more before bed. Receiving a very positive response from Spark, she decided she would soon have to share this with her other animals. Putting it away for the night, she changed for bed and got under the covers. Spark slept at her feet, and the plush slept in her arms.


	15. Unexpected Help

"It's really coming down," Mark replied from the shelter of the barn, looking out at the rain.

"Yeah, looks like Spring's coming with a vengeance," Chelsea observed as she brushed one of her cows.

Just as Chelsea had predicted when she had arrived home after the festival, today was very much a downpour. She didn't mind it, though. It was the perfect chance to teach Mark how to care for the animals. She called him back over and showed him how to brush the cows and instructed him to talk to them while he brushed them. The younger cows seemed a bit wary of him, but Chelsea assured Mark that they just weren't used to him yet and with a little more socialization they would relax.

Chelsea sang to them as she had grown accustomed to doing. She was a little embarrassed to have Mark in the audience, so sang softer than usual. It had been awhile since she had sung in front of people, and she feared she might be as rusty as Lanna. Well, she thought, it would be good practice for when the concert came around. Mark became just as enthralled in her performance as the cattle were, asking her a million and one questions when she finished.

They ran as quickly as they could to the chicken coop. Chelsea demonstrated how to pick up a chicken properly. Apparently there was an improper way, because Mark's first few attempts sent him running from an angry hen or two. After a couple of amusing laps around the coop, Chelsea finally calmed her hens and told Mark to try feeding them instead. As he put food in the boxes she sat down with them and hummed until they were dreamily content.

They raced each other to the stable, where Chelsea left Mark to tend her horse and dog while she ran to Chen's to purchase more seeds. Upon return she found Argan with a shiny coat eating contently, and Spark in Mark's lap as he scratched behind her ears. Smiling to herself, she quietly left before he noticed her and went to plow and plant her seeds. It wasn't long before she was finished, so her time of absence was believable when she finally stepped foot into the stables.

Chelsea invited Mark into the house to plan his wages. Once inside Chelsea grabbed two towels from her cabinet, throwing one to Mark. Planning his payment was harder than Chelsea had expected: every amount Chelsea suggested was more than Mark was willing to take, and Chelsea wasn't willing to pay Mark JUST the modest amount he needed to live on.

"It's okay to have spending money, Mark. You don't have to strip it down to the bare minimum."

"But you have an entire farm to pay for; I only have to worry about rent. I don't want what you pay me to take away from the expenses needed for the farm."

"Hiring you is a part of those expenses now, Mark. Don't worry about it so much. I wouldn't have hired you if I couldn't afford to pay what I'm suggesting now."

"Hello, you two!"

Mark and Chelsea turned their attentions to the door to see Lanna standing there, green umbrella in hand. She folded it down, leaned it next to the door and walked over to the table. "What are you two bickering about?"

"We're not bickering," Chelsea laughed. "We're trying to work out Mark's wages."

"Sounds like bickering to me," Lanna shrugged. "I take it you two haven't come to a solution yet?"

"Not yet," Chelsea sighed.

"What brings you here today, Lanna?" Mark asked politely.

"Oh, Chelsea called after the festival yesterday and asked if I had time to practice for the concert. She said it was going to rain today." Lanna turned to Chelsea, "looks like you were right, Chels."

"I think I'm turning into Taro," Chelsea joked, amused by Lanna's new nickname for her. "I think we'll be finished soon, but would you like some tea or hot chocolate while you wait?"

"Oh, some tea would be lovely! It'll help loosen my throat for singing." Chelsea got up to prepare her tea as Lanna took a seat at the table.

She returned with Lanna's tea, which she set on the table, and pulled a couple thousand G out of her wallet. "This should cover the first couple days of work," she said.

"I—I can't take that much! That's about a thousand a day!"

"It doesn't have to be this much all the time. You've already done more in your first two days working on the farm than I did. Let's just say this is your reward for not dying on me." She pulled out a bit more and also put it into Mark's open palm. "Take this and check that there are 100 pieces of lumber in the shed; there should be. Please go to Gannon and ask him to make me another feeder for the barn. After that you're free for the day."

To keep Mark from protesting and to keep Lanna from eavesdropping, Chelsea wrapped her arm about Mark's shoulder and slowly walked him towards the door. She leaned in close and whispered. "I noticed a level 2 hammer for sale at Gannon's on my way back from Chen's. When you're finished with work for the day or on days you don't have any, might I suggest you go mining?" When Mark gave her a confused grimace Chelsea added, "Sabrina likes gems."

Enlightenment dawned on Mark's face. "Bye, Lanna!" He waved and ran out the door.

"What was that all about?" Lanna asked, curious about the whispering.

"Oh nothing," Chelsea responded with a smile, "I just finally convinced him to take the money."

"Are you suuuure?" she asked with a devilish smirk. "It looked like it was a little bit more than that."

Chelsea waved her off, unconcerned. "Trust me when I say that's all. We're both interested in other people. And No, that's all you're getting out of me!" Chelsea said, finishing loudly with a pointed finger.

"Aww, c'mon, Chels. Can't I get even a little hint? I didn't know you liked anyone on this island?" Curiosity ate away at Lanna's core. She hadn't taken the time to notice Chelsea giving any one guy special attention, and that Mark was interested in someone was even more intriguing. A few more minutes passed by as she pleaded without any luck.

"Lanna for the last time, I'm not telling you. If I did I would never here the end of it. And so help me, telling you might end any chance I'd have anyway." Knowing him, Chelsea thought to herself. "Could we please begin rehearsal? Any more of this and you might make your voice hoarse."

Lanna huffed one last time and relented. Before any singing was done Lanna and Chelsea went over a collection of songs, trying to decide which one to sing in duet. They also made a weekly schedule of times to practice together, agreeing to perform their solos for each other.

"It'll be good to get some constructive criticism." Chelsea said.

"Yes," Lanna agreed. "Better to hear it in private rehearsals than on the stage."

Once they chose a piece they could sing together, they began with chromatic scales to warm up, using these simple scales to synchronize their voices. It was hard work to harmonize their voices, each adjusting to the other's tone. Their patience was rewarded, however, and what was once a harsh clashing of two voices became a single eloquent harmony.

They took a short break to rest their voices and quietly sipped their tea. Then Chelsea played what she had learned so far of her violin peace, which Lanna followed with her own solo. Each had constructive tips for the other's improvement, and overall their individual pieces were making good progress. Finally they took their duet and did a site reading as they sang it together for the first time. They were singing the last few bars when Robert walked in, clapping madly.

"Hellooooo, ladies! That was absolutely marvelous!" he cheered.

I think I'm going to have to start locking this door even when I'm home, Chelsea sighed to herself. "Hello, Robert."

"Hi, Robbie!" Lanna exclaimed, waving her hand to invite him closer. With an idea dawning in her mind, Lanna turned to Chelsea with a quizzical yet playful look, to which Chelsea returned a flat "are you kidding" expression.

Well, Lanna thought, guess that rules him out. But then, you never knew. Perhaps in time something could form between them. Robert seemed interested, and for all Chelsea's chatting and running about the island, she spent far too much time alone. Lanna had known Chelsea for almost a year now and never once had she seen Chelsea on a date. If it wasn't the new guy than who was it? The question was going to gnaw at her until she knew.

"Lanna…?" Lanna snapped out of her daydreaming to finally notice a hand waving in front of her. Chelsea looked at her with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine, just got a little lost in thought, that's all." Lanna stood and walked towards the door distractedly. "Let's pick up where we left off in our next practice. Oh, and don't forget to keep practicing for the Goddess Festival, it's only a few days away now." And with that she was gone.

Both Robert and Chelsea stared at the door with baffled expressions.

"I haven't known her for long, but sometimes that girl makes me worried," Robert said.

"Join the club," Chelsea replied. "But I'm sure she's fine. Goddess knows what's gotten her so distracted. Perhaps she's just tired; we did a lot of work for a long time on harmonizing."

"Perhaps…." Robert eyes glazed over the scattered papers on the table until he spotted a large package envelope. Curious, he looked closer to find it was the documents Clarice had said she was sending over.

"Oh, what's this?" He said, pretending to be a nosy neighbor. Chelsea tried to pull it from his reach, but he quickly snatched it up. Knowing full well what was inside, he acted surprised at the contents in the envelope. "I see you're still doing you company work on the side? Does this mean you're slowly transitioning to it?"

"It doesn't mean anything, Robert. Please give it back." She grabbed for it again, but he turned away making her miss. He continued to evade her as he read over her notes and comments. They were accurate in their corrections and points, but lacked suggestions for improvements.

"I take it these notes were written in haste?" He said, turning to her.

Chelsea, defeated, let him keep the papers and responded, "not exactly in haste, but distractedly. I was… well, I wasn't myself and I skimmed over them to get it done and out of the way."

Robert made a tut tut sound and chided her, "There is great detail in each of these pieces that demands great attention. If you do not take proper time to do the work, in the end the company suffers from bad shows."

Chelsea held her arms up in exasperation and slumped into a chair. "Yeah, I know… I know. It's just that between the farm and the upcoming festival and the concert and training a new farmhand I… I just can't do everything at once. I'm sorry the company has to suffer, but I just don't have the time."

"You don't have time for a possible future?" He asked, pulling up a chair next to her. Chelsea looked up at his stern expression. "You still have a long life ahead of you. You may be working this ranch now, but who's to say you won't someday go back to the company?" Chelsea's brows furrowed as she considered this.

"I don't have anything against my family's company, honest." Robert nodded understandingly. "I just don't have a passion for it, and I don't like the feeling of being forced."

"I understand, but think of what it could mean for your future. Don't burn bridges you might want to cross down the road." Robert watched her as she thought about what he said.

Finally she answered. "I guess your right. But where am I going to find the time for it?" She stood and began pacing the room.

"I can help," he said calmly.

"What?"

"I can help," he repeated. "Lanna did tell you where I was over New Year's, correct?" Chelsea nodded. "Well I know quite a bit about your family's company, about you, and about fashion. I could lend you a hand whenever you're sent things to critique by the company."

"I…I don't know…," Chelsea began.

"You said you wanted the time. I can cut the time you take on these in half," he reasoned. "We can go over them together, that way you can technically call it your review. It's not like I'm going to tell the company I'm doing your work for you. You can trust me, and," he lingered on the word, seeing that he was winning her over, "it'll give you more practice and island-running time." Robert held his hand out as he waited for her answer.

"Alright, you win," she relented, shaking his outstretched hand. "I'll tell you whenever I have more material sent over, and we can look over them together."

"Excellent! Let's start with this one, shall we?" Walking back to the table he spread the pages out and began going over them, verbally adding his thoughts. It didn't take long for Chelsea to notice Robert's particular talent for fashion. He knew all of the old and new styles, and what would be 'in' next season. They went over them in about the same time Chelsea had, but with double the content. Chelsea sealed the envelope and re-directed it to be sent back to the city. Robert offered to deliver it to the boat himself.

"Thank you." Chelsea smiled, "I really do appreciate the help."

"Not at all, it was fun!" Robert replied. "I hope you get more of these soon."

Chelsea hoped for the opposite, but nevertheless she smiled and waved as he tucked the package under his arm, using the other for his own umbrella and set off.

Once he was off the property and walking towards the boat, Robert happily hugged the package as he skipped down the road. What a wonderful excuse to spend more time with Chelsea! And he would have an inside influence on the company's doing. And he would get to spend time with Chelsea! Now it was only a matter of time before she fell in love with him. There was no doubt in his mind that this wouldn't be so.


	16. Birthday Porridge

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, VAUGHN!" Mirabelle and Julia shouted as he came through the door.

"Isn't it a little early for this?" Vaughn asked irritably; starting work at six as usual, birthday or not, to be greeted by an explosion of sound. Both Mirabelle and Julia gave him puppy dog frowns, so he smiled and tipped his hat. "Thank you." He then cleared his throat and went to the back to prepare for the new sheep he'd brought in.

* * *

The sun woke Chelsea at dawn. She dressed, ate a quick breakfast and walked to the door to begin work. She was on her own today; it had rained enough yesterday that she decided not to water today and thus called the hotel to give Mark the day off.

"The new Feeder is finished." Gannon was at the door. "Just thought I'd let you know," and with that he turned to go home.

"Thank you, Gannon. See you later." Chelsea waved.

Gannon smiled and waved back.

Remembering what day it was Chelsea went back inside to prepare the dish she had planned a few days back. She hummed to herself as she stirred, and before long it was finished. She put it in the fridge and returned to her farm work.

* * *

"Oh, Vaughn dear? Could I ask you to do one more thing before you finish for the day?"

Vaughn, who was walking in from the back door adjusting his gloves, looked up at Mirabelle.

Mirabelle pointed to a lamb in the center of the shop room. Julia was beside it cooing reassuringly. "Could you take this little thing over to Chelsea's ranch for us? Everything is checked out: Chelsea has a feeder in place and she's already been paid for. All that's left is to take her over."

"Let Chelsea pick her up when she gets here. Not like she wasn't going to stop by later on, anyway," Vaughn replied, knowing Chelsea's stalking habits or (what did she call it?) happening to be in the same place.

"I know, dear, but I'm sure she has her hands full at the moment, and it would really be a great help to us. Please?" Julia turned her back to Vaughn to hide her smile as she continued to kneel beside the little lamb.

"Fine." Vaughn took the reigns from Julia and gently led the lamb towards the door.

"Oh, and don't forget to come back later. We're having a birthday dinner for you. Don't forget!" Mirabelle waved.

Vaughn grumbled something and went out the door, not noticing Julia and Mirabelle exchange huge smiles. Playing matchmaker was fun.

* * *

Vaughn stepped on to the property and looked around for Chelsea. Spark spotted him instantly and ran up to where he stood. She yipped to get the tall man's attention, whom upon seeing her kneeled down and offered his hand. Spark sniffed his palm then gave it a lick, which make Vaughn smirk. She then turned her attention to the timid little lamb next to him. They touched noses, Spark let out a light woof to which the lamb responded in kind. He chuckled at their antics.

"Can you tell me where Chelsea is?" he asked.

Spark met his eyes and then ran off towards the barn. Good, less back and fourth, he thought. As he along Spark's running trail he heard a faint voice in the distance. He continued forward until the fields were only a few paces away. He could hardly believe the phenomenon happening before him.

Chelsea's cattle were in the field, but instead of moving about and grazing, they were all standing in a half circle facing one point. Chelsea was sitting on the stone fence facing them. She sang confidently at full volume, fluidly, and from her heart; her eyes were closed as she concentrated on her pitch, a smile curving the corners of her mouth. Her cattle listened with their eyes closed, almost as if they were smiling, too. She wasn't singing with words, but her audience didn't need them to feel what Chelsea was feeling as she sang. Vaughn stood there dumbstruck as he listened; he knew that she was good, but when she sang from her heart as she was now, it was beautiful. None of them willing to move, they stood quietly until she finished.

She allowed the last note to fade into the silence before she finally took a breath in. When it was gone Spark skipped forward until she was behind Chelsea and let out a loud bark. Startled, Chelsea spun too quickly and fell backwards, into the field and on to her back. Spark jumped the fence and licked Chelsea's face in apology.

"Thank you," she said, both forgiving and sarcastic. Chelsea stood and brushed herself off when she noticed a figure standing in the field. She looked up to see Vaughn, and almost fell a second time. He stared into space with wide eyes (or was it just that he wasn't scowling?) barely hanging on to a rope that was tied to a lamb. The lamb baaed in greeting.

"Hi, Vaughn," Chelsea said nervously. Vaughn didn't move. "Vaughn?" He blinked and looked at her, attempting to snap out of his trance, but once he did he couldn't think of what to say.

Chelsea smiled and in a flash swept Vaughn's hat off of his head.

"HEY!" he yelled.

"Finally," she retorted. She handed him the hat which he snatched away and grumpily replaced on his head. "Was it really that bad?" Chelsea asked.

"No…no, it was good," he said quietly. Vaughn cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Mirabelle asked me to bring the lamb over."

"Yes, thank you. I have everything ready for her." Chelsea took the reigns from Vaughn's hand, unconsciously brushing his fingers lightly as she did so. "Could you come with me and make sure she settles in okay." Embarrassed, he nodded and followed behind her.

They took her into the barn and Chelsea put fodder into the newly crafted feeder. Vaughn slipped the reigns off and let the lamb explore her new surroundings.

"Sorry, little one," Chelsea said as she put the fodder down. "You'll have to stay in the barn until you get a bit bigger."

The lamb bleated in response and began to eat from the feeder. "Good, eating means she's not nervous," Vaughn commented.

Chelsea nodded, "Yeah, looks like she'll settle in okay."

"Have you thought of a name for her?" he asked as they watched her eat.

"Mmhmm, I think I'll call her Melody," Chelsea said. "I think it fits our first meeting." Vaughn cocked an eyebrow until he realized what she meant and pulled his hat over his eyes.

After a long pause Chelsea asked in a timid voice, "So… it really didn't sound bad?"

Vaughn glanced at her from under his hat to see she looked quite anxious for his answer. As much as he wanted to describe what he had felt, he was just as nervous to admit it, so instead he changed replied. "Are you really that nervous about it?"

"Well… whenever I sang I was in a group. Any notes I missed could be covered up, and any flat tones balanced. I've never really sung by myself before. I've always had help," she said sadly.

"You'll be fine," Vaughn returned looking up across the barn. "Sing like that and you won't have anything to worry about."

Chelsea smiled and flushed, thankful for the support. Being encouraged to do well was still fairly new to her, so she often blushed when praised.

"Well, Melody seems to be okay," Vaughn said and turned to leave, Chelsea close behind.

When they got closer to the house Chelsea exclaimed, "Oh! I almost forgot. You're arrival startled me, so it completely slipped my mind, but I have something for you." Without thinking she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the house.

"Cover your eyes," she instructed. Vaughn cocked an eyebrow at her. "Just do it."

"This is ridiculous," but nevertheless he closed his eyes and covered them with one hand. He tried not to react as she again took his free hand and walked him forward. He heard her dash across the room and back again, and thought he heard the faint noise of something being set on the table, which was apparently right in front of him.

"Okay, open," she said.

Vaughn uncovered his eyes, preparing a cynical remark until he saw the porridge on the table.

"Happy Birthday, Vaughn," Chelsea beamed.

"Th-thank you," he said. His eyes were wide and a slight blush had appeared on his face. Then he smiled and replied, "I take it you've watched me enough at the diner to guess my favorite?"

She giggled. "Something like that." She cocked her head and continued with a smile, "I was planning on giving it to you when I picked up Melody, but since you're here now would you like to have lunch with me?"

Vaughn tensed; his initial instinct was to refuse. But it quickly faded and his expression softened to his neutral scowl. "Sure."

Vaughn sat down to his porridge as Chelsea went to the kitchen and prepared her meal. While it was cooking she poured two glasses of milk and set them on the table. Vaughn waited for her to finish cooking her lunch before he started on his. She returned to the table with her buckwheat noodles and sat opposite him.

While they ate Chelsea told Vaughn about the two festivals that had taken place during his absence. What she talked about most, however, was how she had acquired the rice she needed to make his porridge. He was surprised by how much effort she had put into getting his birthday gift, and it made him slightly embarrassed. Upon hearing Julia's hand in it he was no longer surprised why he had been sent alone to Chelsea's farm. Those two just couldn't mind their own business, could they?

They finished lunch and took their plates to the sink, which Chelsea insisted on doing herself. She lost, however, and Vaughn took drying duty. When they finished with the dishes they both headed out the door and to the beach. It was Vaughn's usual custom to do so, and Chelsea said she wanted to catch up on her fishing. While they still had the privacy of Chelsea's property, however, Vaughn spoke up.

"Would you like to have dinner at Mirabelle's tonight?" Chelsea seemed surprised by the question and looked up at him. "They have some sort of birthday dinner planned for me."

"Oh, I don't want to intrude…," Chelsea began.

"Don't worry about it," he said. Then he scowled and smiled at the same time, forming a malicious grin, an expression Chelsea had never seen on Vaughn before. "I think they owe me one."

Not sure what he meant, Chelsea settled. "Well, if you're sure… then I'd love to," she said.

They reached the beach and went their separate ways. Vaughn half expected Chelsea to follow him on his walk, but to his surprise she gave him his space and went to the shore to fish. Somehow Vaughn was pleased by this; it's not that he didn't like her company, but he was happy that she knew when to leave him alone. He couldn't stand clingy girls.

Vaughn walked around the beach, occasionally watching Chelsea fishing on the shore. At one point Denny joined her and began a fishing contest to see who could catch the bigger fish. Vaughn rolled his eyes. He saw Sabrina on the shore, tipped his hat and continued on his way.

At another point Chelsea caught a large fish and laughed heartily at Denny for losing the competition, as he only caught a medium fish. An argument ensued as Denny defended his fisherman honor by pointing out he could catch much bigger fish than she if they were in a boat. They both laughed when Chelsea's large fish slapped her in the face.

The sun set and both Sabrina and Denny made their way to the east side of town. They both wished Vaughn a happy birthday, for they had both somehow discovered it (Denny probably from Sabrina, and her source unknown). He thanked them each as they left together.

Shortly after they left Chelsea came up from the shore with a bucket of fish in hand. She came up to Vaughn and together they walked towards Mirabelle's shop. When they hit the crossroads Chelsea put her bucket into the shipping bin outside of Taro's. Then she pulled out an herb, pinched it in a couple of places, and rubbed it on her clothes and face.

"What," Vaughn asked with a cocked eyebrow, "are you doing?"

"This will get rid of the fish smell," Chelsea answered back.

Vaughn crossed his arms. "If you don't like the smell of fish, then don't fish," he said.

"Not me," Chelsea countered calmly as she rubbed the place the fish had slapped her face, "Julia. She hates fish."

"Oh." Then he thought of Julia's scheming earlier that day. "Well maybe she deserves to suffer a little."

Chelsea gave him a funny look. "Okay, sure, how about I walk into your house one day smelling like carrots."

"Okay, fine," he relented, seeing her point. As they continued to the house he added, "Good think I don't have a house." Chelsea burst out laughing.

* * *

Mirabelle and Julia were making the final preparations to the table when they heard the front door swing open. They stood next to their places at the table and waited for Vaughn to round the corner. To their surprise (and delight) Chelsea was right behind him. Vaughn stopped in the center of the doorway, crossed his arms, tapped his foot and cocked his eyebrow as he glared at the two of them. "You knew," he said flatly.

Julia and Mirabelle looked at each other guiltily, and then began laughing hysterically. Vaughn scowled more, but they brushed it aside.

"You should be thankful, Vaughn," Julia breathed, still laughing. "I was tempted to have her come here so I could see your reaction. Hi, Chelsea," she added.

"Hi," Chelsea replied still standing behind Vaughn nervously. "I hope I'm not intruding…."

"Oh not at all, dear," Mirabelle said as she pulled Chelsea into the dining room and began setting a place for her. "We had half a mind to invite you, anyway. This is after all a celebration for Vaughn with family and friends, and you are his closest friend." Mirabelle looked sideways at Vaughn expecting him to deny it, but he did not. Instead he sat at the table and remained silent.

"Oh, you can't stay mad at us forever," Mirabelle coaxed. Vaughn let out a hmph and looked away.

Chelsea, who was seated next to him, smiled and slowly extended her arm towards his hat. He swatted her away and turned his glare on her. She smiled back until they silently compromised and he returned to his usual passive scowl.

Dinner was served and the conversation carried between Mirabelle, Julia and Chelsea. The former two tried to coerce details out of Chelsea what happened when she gave him his birthday present, while the later, to Vaughn's relief, kept the descriptions brief and left out certain key details. Before long Chelsea switched the topic to Melody and how she was adjusting well to her new life. She also asked for tips on how to properly care for sheep, as this lamb was her first. On this topic, even Vaughn joined the conversation.

When the main course was finished, Julia went to the fridge and pulled out a chocolate cake. She was about to put candles on top, but one look from Vaughn told her that there was no way he'd stoop so low. Chelsea took some from her hand and started putting them on anyway. Vaughn tried to give her the same look, but she shrugged and responded to it with, "If you don't blow them out then I will."

When they began to sing Vaughn pulled his hat over his eyes and crossed his arms. The girls, however, could tell that he was blushing from what they could see of his face, and continued. When they finished Chelsea counted off one, two, and the three blew the candles out, making a point to blow the smoke into Vaughn's face. He protested, waving the smoke away from his face with his hat, and they laughed.

In singing this simple song Mirabelle and Julia had heard Chelsea's voice, and while they ate the chocolate cake asked her about the concert. Chelsea replied that she was in fact participating, and told them about the performances she knew about, which were only three. Julia commented that she knew a few more people were participating, and was debating whether or not she should join in. Chelsea encouraged her and recommended the get Elliot to join in, too.

"It'll be a great confidence boost for him if he does well," Chelsea said.

"And the opposite if he doesn't," Vaughn rejoined calmly.

"Oh be nice," Mirabelle chided him.

"That's why you should do an act with him, Julia," Chelsea continued. "Hey, maybe you two could square dance," she joked.

"You know, that's actually not a bad idea," Julia responded thoughtfully. "I know a couple of simple ones. Oh, we could show people how to do it the first time, and then others could join in."

"That sounds like fun," Chelsea smiled. "If it helps, I promise to be one of the people to join in. So long as I'm not being held backstage or something, that is."

"I will too, dear," Mirabelle joined in. "My, it's been years since I've square danced. I hope I've still got it." Chelsea and Julia giggled at this.

"Will you join in?" Julia asked, looking at Vaughn.

"Don't count on it," he replied. Julia gave him a puppy dog face until he repeated the phrase. Chelsea smiled at the face Julia was making.

"It's a long ways off," Chelsea reassured her. "Maybe he'll change his mind." Vaughn cocked an eyebrow at her. "Maybe."


	17. New Friends

**Sorry it's taken so long for me to update. This and another chapter have been sitting in the works for awhile now, but both myself and my editor have been busy enough with college projects that it's been difficult to meed and edit the story effectively. But here it is, finally. The next chapter is written, but as I intend to add to it, I won't post it until I'm satisfied. This may not be posted for another two weeks because this is when finals are happening, but there's good news! In two weeks I hit my summer break, which means chapters will flow in at a much faster rate. I'll do my best to get the other chapter posted as soon as possible. It's as frustrating for me not to have time to write as it is for you to be left hanging. Thank you all for your reviews and your patience. **

The next day Chelsea all but ran into the animal store, startling everyone inside.

"Are you alright? Is something wrong?" Julia asked worriedly.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine hey is there any place I can hide for a little while?" Chelsea asked.

"Hide, who from, dear?" Mirabelle asked, also concerned.

Chelsea let out a long exasperated sigh, folded her arms on the counter and lowered her head. All three of them looked at her in curiosity.

"I think, like Lanna, and like Pierre… I have a crazy fan," came her muffled reply.

There was a moment of silence before Julia burst out laughing. Mirabelle began to chuckle as well. Vaughn just looked at them in confusion.

"I take it you're talking about Robert," Julia giggled. Vaughn narrowed his eyes.

"YES! He follows me everywhere like he has nothing better to do. What's worse is that that's probably true," Chelsea ranted. "He even said on the first day he came here that he came because he heard I was living here. And his exuberance! Where does he get all that energy anyway? Oh and it irks me the way he enters a room with that—."

"Helloooooo!" said a familiar voice. Chelsea groaned.

Robert came through the wooden doors with a smile painted on his face. His smile faltered for a moment when he saw Vaughn, but no one in the room seemed to notice. He beamed at Chelsea and then turned to Mirabelle. "I would like to buy a chicken please."

Everyone started at him with mouths hanging open. Chelsea was the first to break the silence. "Robert, what do you need a chicken for?"

"I'm glad you asked, dear Chelsea. I have just made the most amazing discovery!" The ruffles on his thin long sleeve shirt billowed as he clapped his hands together excitedly. "It would seem that if you bring an ingredient to the man at the diner, he'll use it to make a new dish. This island doesn't seem to serve any dishes with meat, other than fish. Then it dawned on me that all I had to do was get some for the man to make a recipe with. Isn't it a fabulous idea?!"

The girls stared at him horrified. Vaughn, however, was angry. He began to stand up, but Chelsea held out her arm to stop him. He looked down at her, face still filled with rage, but she gave him a serious look over her shoulder, so he sat back down.

"Robert," she began. "These chickens aren't for eating. The chickens here are being raised with love and care to produce eggs. We couldn't possibly hurt them like that, nor can they be sold for such purposes. I'm sorry, Robert, but I'm afraid you'll just have to get used to vegetables, dairy products, and fish." Mirabelle beamed at Chelsea's speech; the sweet girl really did love animals, that much was certain.

Robert contemplated this for a moment, and then his expression brightened, "Alright, how about a cow then?"

Again the room was horrified, as Chelsea put her hand on her forehead. "These are Dairy cows, Robert, not beef stock. They are for milking, not for eating," she sighed at his density on the subject.

Robert seemed confused by this and looked at Vaughn, "but doesn't he bring them here when he does that, what's it called, daving?"

"Droving," Vaughn said flatly, glaring at Robert from under the brim of his hat.

"Robert," Chelsea said sternly. "No animals in this store are for eating. No chicken, no cows, NO sheep. Understand?"

"Well that's an extreme bummer."

"If you don't like it, perhaps you should return to the mainland," Chelsea said hopefully. Julia stifled a laugh. "Island life isn't for everyone you know."

"Nonsense! If you can live without meat then so can I," he said. Chelsea let out a small sigh that Robert didn't notice. Then Robert snapped his fingers as if he just remembered something. "Speaking of Island, it just dawned on me that the Goddess Festival is coming up on the 8th, is it not? I was wondering if I could claim you for all of the free dances."

What a moron, Vaughn thought to himself. Didn't he know that you weren't supposed to ask until the day before? Still, it would be tough for Chelsea to get out of this one. Vaughn wondered if he should try to do something.

Chelsea gained a blank expression on her face and then looked down at her watch. "Oh wow, look at the time I just remembered I have to write a letter to my father before it gets too late." It was only 11am. "I should get going, I'll see you guys later," she said waving to the others in the store.

She bustled out of the door and before Robert could catch up to her she was already on her horse and running her horse towards the farm. Vaughn looked back down at the counter and smirked to himself as Julia began to giggle uncontrollably.

* * *

Well, what I said was half true, Chelsea thought to herself as she rode Argan back to the farm. Chelsea still couldn't believe that Robert had asked her to the Goddess Festival. She would have to think of a way to avoid him that day. She knew it was bad idea to accept his offer for the help on the company work! But then, she knew that she was low on options. She still owed a responsibility to her family, and if she had continued to do the work alone the farm could be what suffered in the long run.

She got off of Argan and let him roam the property as she went inside. She searched for some paper and a pen and, true to her word, sat down to write a letter to her father. She had meant to do so sooner, but his letter had arrived during a busy part of the year; the transitioning of seasons. Now that things had settled down she could finally take the time to respond. She started off with thanking him for the gift, and told him that she slept with it every night.

Then she paused for a moment, unsure of what to say next. She sat at her table and contemplated what she truly wanted to say. All past resentments aside, she knew that she loved her father dearly. When it came down to it she knew that it was her mother who wanted her to succeed the company. The company was her father's life; he was good at what he did, it was his passion, and he was proud of what it had become. But Chelsea knew that he also loved her very much, and didn't want to force her into it. It was the unfortunate turn of events, and the lack of their ability to have other children that had brought it down to this. These are all negative thoughts, Chelsea thought to herself, what do I really want to say?

She picked up her pen and wrote the truth. She told him that she loved him, admitting that she missed him and, with a heavy releasing sigh, that she forgave him for any discord between them in the past. Starting a new paragraph she started writing about the farm. As she went on she got more and more excited, telling him about all sorts of things about farming and about the island. She even wrote that maybe if the doctors deemed him well enough he could come and visit her on the island. She wished him well and a speedy recovery, and signed it 'with love.' She sealed the letter and went to Taro's to ask him to deliver it.

* * *

A couple of days before the Goddess Festival Chelsea and Mark left from her property together. They went to Taro's house to pick up Natalie and Elliot. Chatting with the elder members of the house just a moment and then the four of them were off. On the way to Mirabelle's they saw Denny, and Sabrina heading up the road from the beach. The four waited just a moment for the other two until the smiling six walked together, stopping just next to the shop door. Lanna and Pierre holding a cake were already waiting for them. Seven of the eight assembled sniggered quietly, as Chelsea shushed them and went inside alone.

"Happy Birthday, Julia!" Chelsea chimed as she entered the store.

"Oh hello, Chelsea," Julia replied somewhat sadly but nonetheless she smiled, "Thank you very much."

"What's wrong?" Chelsea asked already having a good guess in mind.

"Oh, nothing. It's just that I'm thinking of all my friends back at my old home. I just received a few letters from them," she said holding up a few opened cards. She giggled a little, a flicker of amusement crossing her face as she pulled out one in particular and added, "I even got a card from Vaughn."

"I take it his letter was right to the point?" Chelsea smiled. Julia nodded. "Now! I have something for you, too." Chelsea rummaged through her bag and pulled out a jar of yogurt with a ribbon tied around it. She pulled it out of Julia's reaching hands and continued, "_This_ is S grade yogurt I made this morning. Complete with my signature ribbon." She lowered her arm to place it in Julia's hands.

"Thank you, Chelsea!" Julia said with a slight flush of embarrassment, "I know how much S grade sells for."

Chelsea smiled and shrugged a 'your welcome.' Now it was time for the other surprise. "I had a feeling you might be thinking of and missing your old friends today," Chelsea began, "so I brought something else…."

Julia looked up at her questioningly and for awhile nothing happened. Chelsea cleared her throat and repeated a bit louder, "So I brought something else…." Still nothing. Chelsea sighed, held up her finger and walked to the swinging doors. She leaned over the top, stuck her head out, and looked towards the right.

"SO I BROUGHT SOMETHING ELSE!!" she yelled. She jumped off the door and pulled it to the side just as Mark, Sabrina, Elliot, Natalie, Pierre, Denny, and Lanna all came in surrounding a cake they each held a part of and shouted, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

They placed the cake in front of Julia on the table (Mirabelle had smartly removed the letters and shelved them below the counter.) and began to sing the happy birthday song. Julia began to cry happy tears as she looked at the cake and then to her smiling friends. When the song finished, Chelsea came up to Julia on one side as Elliot took the other. Julia was still crying.

Chelsea gently rubbed her shoulders and said, "You're a wonderful and kind person, Julia. You'll have friends no matter where you go."

"That's right!" Elliot chimed in. "We're all very glad you came to this island." Everyone sounded in agreement.

"Thank you everyone, I'm very happy," Julia wiped the tears from her eyes and blew out the candles. Everyone clapped as Mirabelle returned with plates and silverware.

"Denny even showered for today so he wouldn't smell like fish," Lanna said cheerfully. Denny smiled awkwardly and looked away. Chelsea gave him a wink. She was glad to hear he had followed her advice.

Mark picked up a large container of milk he'd been carrying with the other hand and said proudly, "I did my first milking on my own this morning. It's harder than it looks," he laughed.

Mirabelle went back to the kitchen and returned with a stack of cups. Chelsea helped Mirabelle cut and serve the cake. Pierre had backed it himself, so it was sure to be good. They played party games after they finished the cake and by the end of it all, Julia had completely forgotten any sadness she had felt earlier that day. When the party finally ended everyone said goodbye to Julia and went out the door; everyone except Elliot, that is. Mark offered to walk Sabrina home, while Natalie went with Pierre to hang out at his place. Denny and Lanna went to the beach to go fishing together. As everyone parted ways Chelsea smiled sadly to herself and walked home alone.

* * *

"Mr. Franklin Rougue? There's a letter for you," a female nurse said. The people working at the hospital had learned to deliver things to him when his wife had left for the day. She walked across the room and handed the letter to him. His trembling hand held the letter for a moment as he looked at the nurse. She smiled in understanding and opened it for him. She helped him into a seated position so his hands could rest in his lap as he read the letter. Even lifting his arms and holding objects had become difficult for him. As he read the letter a tear trickled down his face. He went into a coughing spasm and the nurse had to steady him, but when he came out of it he was smiling. Chelsea didn't write that she understood his message to her, but she forgave him and loved him, and that was enough for now. He read the letter over and over until the nurse forced him to go to sleep, and even then he held the letter in his hand.


	18. Goddess Festival

The sun was bright through the window as Chelsea woke up and got ready. She dressed and made breakfast for herself and Mark. He arrived just as she finished and they ate quickly. Today was the Harvest Goddess Festival and they were eager to get their work done as soon as possible. Mark watered the plants as Chelsea ran from one animal pen to the next, caring for the chickens and the livestock. They finished in next to no time, and Chelsea ran back inside to put on her outfit for the festival.

Originally they had decided not to wear anything special, but as soon as Robert heard of this of course he wouldn't allow it. Chelsea had to give him credit though, she thought to herself as she slipped the dress over her head; he did a really good job with the dresses. He asked all of the girls to meet him in his hotel room to take their measurements. Some of the girls were nervous at first, because it meant taking off most of their clothes, but Robert surprised them with his maturity; all of his usual exuberance turned to stoic concentration. Watching him with Lanna, who had gone first, Chelsea reassured the other girls that he must have done this before coming to the island, because he was working the same way the professionals would. Knowing Chelsea had grown up around such things the girls trusted her word and relaxed. After calculating the fabric he would need he promised them each a dress and that he would deliver them the day before the festival.

Chelsea slid off her bandana, brushed her hair out, and then put the flower reef atop her head. Mark heard the house door open and saw Chelsea. She was wearing a pink dress that went all the way to the floor. It was sleeveless, the brim of the dress and her shouldered encircled by a ring of flowers. That part was very traditional. Robert also added a flare of his own, separating the bodice and the gown with yet another pattern of flowers that hung around her waist forming a V in the front. Last but not least, a floral reef atop her head.

Mark beamed at her. "You look beautiful," he said.

Chelsea flushed a little. "Thank you. I have to admit, Robert did a good job."

"Absolutely!" Mark agreed. He held out his arm to Chelsea. "Shall we go?"

Chelsea giggled and let him escort her down the way. They went as far as the crossroads when Chelsea remembered something. "Oh, Mark, why don't you go ahead without me? I have something I have to do before the festival."

"Well, okay," he said uncertainly. "Just don't be late to the celebration dance."

"I won't," she reassured him. "Go on! If you hurry, you might be able to catch Sabrina on her way there and escort her. I'm just going to the forest to do something real quick and I'll run straight back."

"Okay, don't get your dress dirty in the forest. Thanks, Chelsea!" Mark waved goodbye and jogged down the road towards east town.

Chelsea went the opposite direction into the forest. She walked quickly, scanning the forest floor as she moved. She picked up a couple of spring flowers on the way and finally stopped in front of the Goddess Pond. She tossed her handful of flowers into the pond.

"Da Da Daaaaaa!" the Harvest Goddess chimed as she appeared over the pond. "Thank you for the offering, Chelsea!"

Chelsea smiled happily. "Happy Birthday, Goddess."

"So, are you heading over to the festival grounds?" the Goddess asked.

"Yes, we decided to hold a special festival in honor of your birthday here on the island."

"Oh, that makes me very happy," the Goddess replied with a laugh. Then she looked at Chelsea with a kind smile and said, "As a thank you for coming all this way to give an offering, I'll help you along your way. Don't worry it's the same as traveling by Teleport Stone. I hope the festival is fun."

A sparking light appeared around Chelsea and in the next moment she was in east town. She was a little disoriented as she shook her head and tried to regain her balance. A flash of color caught her attention and she realized it was Ben the blue harvest sprite. Ben smiled and waved up at Chelsea. She gave him a curtsy and made her way to the festival.

* * *

Mark arrived at Sabrina's house. He swallowed nervously and rang the doorbell of the great mansion. No sooner did he push the button, the door swung open. Sabrina came bursting out looking out of breath. Mark blushed deeply; she looked absolutely gorgeous in her Goddess Festival dress, and she must have been wearing contacts because her glasses were gone. Looking up, Sabrina noticed Mark standing there.

"Oh! Mark I'm so sorry, I didn't see you standing there," she stood up straight and nervously brushed out the flows of her dress. "I'm sorry, that… wasn't very ladylike of me."

"Oh, no… it's okay, you just startled me, that's all." Mark put his arm behind his head and laughed awkwardly.

"Well now, hello there, Mark. What brings you to our humble abode?" Regis said as he came through the front door as well.

"Well I… was just wondering. I thought maybe Sabrina would like an escort to the festival."

"Well well! What a fine, upstanding gentleman you are! What do you think, Sabrina?"

"That's very kind of you, Mark," Sabrina bowed politely.

Gathering his courage, Mark smiled and offered his arm as he had done with Chelsea. "Shall we go then?" Sabrina smiled graciously and accepted his arm. Mark was careful not to outpace Regis, and to keep him involved in the conversation as they made their way to the festival grounds. When they arrived, Regis wished Sabrina a good time and went off towards the other older adults on the island. If Mark was surprised that Regis had left without giving him a warning of some kind, he didn't show it. Maybe Regis was warming up to him.

* * *

Vaughn looked around the festival grounds irritably. It was a national holiday, so he didn't have anything else to do, but he was starting to wonder why he wanted to spend it here.

"Come oooon, Vaughn!" Julia tugged at his arm, pulling him forward. Elliot was on her other side, blushing furiously. Vaughn wasn't sure why; Julia's dress wasn't hanging down nearly as low as her usual top did. The three of them made their way to the center of the festival where all of the flowers had been put on display. Julia began to compliment Elliot on all of the flowers he had managed to get shipped to the island. Elliot thanked her graciously and began describing all of the places the flowers came from. Vaughn took his chance to slip away from them. He searched for a place he wouldn't be noticed and waited for the main dance to start.

* * *

Chelsea smiled broadly as she saw the festival grounds filled with flowers. From what she could tell, there seemed to be flowers from all of the seasons, and many more that were not native to the island. They really pulled out all of the stops, Chelsea thought. The Goddess will be happy.

Just as she began to look around the flower arrangements, Lanna came running up to her.

"Chelsea! Good you're here, are you ready to get started?" she asked.

"Yes, I think so. Are all of the other girls already here?"

"Yes," Lanna answered, "you are the last one to arrive. Let's go then, the others are waiting for us with Alisa." She followed Lanna through the crowd as they made their way to the clearing that was meant to be the dance floor. Sure enough, Julia, Natalie, and Sabrina were already there. Behind them was a giant statue of the Harvest Goddess, made of marble with glass crystals behind it. Chelsea wondered if they brought it all the way from the church.

Alisa saw them and smiled shyly. "Hello, Chelsea, I'm glad you made it. Are you ready to get started?" All of the girls nodded assent. "Okay, please line up in the following order: Natalie, Lanna, Chelsea, Julia, and then Sabrina." The girls lined up as Alisa requested as Nathan began to shush and gather the crowd. Denny, Pierre, Elliot, and Mark were all in a group making their way forward through the crowd. Chelsea giggled as she saw the boys struggle to get front row views. They all seemed to be blushing slightly as they each looked at the girls they admired. Chelsea began to search the crowd, but then shook her head a little as she firmly told herself that he probably wasn't here today. Briefly during her searching, however, she locked eyes with Robert, who waved furiously at her. She groaned inwardly.

The music began to play, snapping Chelsea out of her musings; it was time to start the dance. Chelsea spun in place and on this cue the girls around her started their movements. They took a few steps, then the girls in the center spun, followed by the Natalie and Sabrina on the ends. Performing a more complicated move, each girl spun individually to create a ripple through the line. Lanna and Julia in the front row did their piece as the other three did back-up movements. They spun around, ending in a curtsy and blowing a kiss to the audience. The front and back rows switched as first Natalie and Sabrina spun, curtsied, and kissed, followed a half beat later by Chelsea. Finally, they reformed their line of five and together gave one last curtsy to the crowd.

Everyone in the audience cheered. The boys cheered the loudest, making the girls blush. Nathan pronounced that now anyone with a partner could dance in the square freely, and signaled to the hired band to play some music. Natalie and Pierre stepped onto the dance floor right away, as did Lanna and Denny. The only two non-shy couples, Chelsea chuckled to herself. She saw Mark conversing with Sabrina near the edge of the dance floor and secretly wished him luck. Julia and Elliot had retreated to the flower arrangements.

Chelsea walked among the flower arrangements as her mind wandered aimlessly. She would smile to people who passed her and waved, blushing a little when she heard them compliment her dress, but for the most part her mind was blank. She was wondering to herself why she had searched the crowd for Vaughn. She tried to think of them as just friends, but something more had begun to tug on her heart strings. She couldn't put her finger on it.

"So this is where you've been hiding," said an all too familiar voice behind her. Chelsea looked up to see Robert smiling down at her. He looked almost as extravagantly dressed as the girls were, with black dress pants, a red silk shirt with ruffled sleeves and a flower pinned in the front. Instead of the way is usually spiked at the ends around his neck, his blue hair was slicked back in a very professional look. Though it made him look handsome, it made Chelsea nervous.

"You look very stunning in that dress, Chelsea," he continued smugly, "If I do say so myself."

"Yes, you did a great job with the dresses," Chelsea replied, trying to stay friendly despite feeling a bit flustered. Why did she always feel so uneasy around him? "On behalf of all of the girls, thank you, Robert."

Robert boldly put a finger under Chelsea's chin and said in a low voice, "Can't you thank me just for yourself? How do you like the dress, Chelsea?" Chelsea's jaw dropped as she stared at him blankly. What was he doing? Robert smiled and inquired, "Why don't we dance while you think of what to say?" Chelsea stammered something as she backed away, and bumped into someone behind her.

"I don't remember hearing Chelsea agree to a dance," the man put a gloved hand on Chelsea's bare shoulder, making her blush. He gently urged her back a few steps away from Robert's hand. Robert gave the man a flat look as Chelsea looked up at Vaughn uncertainly.

"Funny, I don't remember ever hearing you ask," Robert returned flatly.

"Really? Huh, you must have missed that part of the conversation," Chelsea rejoined, surprising them both. "Come on, Vaughn. True to my word I'll teach you to dance." She grabbed Vaughn's hand from her shoulder and dragged him towards the dancing square. Vaughn made a sound of protest but followed. Chelsea smiled over her shoulder and yelled, "Enjoy the festival, Robert!"

They reached the dance floor and took an open spot. Chelsea finally stopped dragging Vaughn and looked around nervously, hoping Robert hadn't followed them. Deciding that he hadn't, she let out a deep sigh and looked at the ground.

"I'm sorry, Vaughn," she admitted. "You came to my rescue and I dragged you onto the dance floor. I don't think he followed us, so you don't have to dance with me if you don't want to."

At first Vaughn wasn't sure how to respond. Then he got an idea and smirked. "I thought I was getting a dancing lesson?"

Despite herself, Chelsea laughed. She looked up at him and said, "If you're sure, then I would be happy to oblige." She put her hand on his shoulder as he put his on her waist, and on the other side clasped their hands together. They were both blushing slightly at the contact, but once the music started they regained their composure.

"You're actually doing pretty well," Chelsea commented after awhile. "It doesn't look like you need me for lessons at all."

"I never said I couldn't dance," Vaughn pointed out. Though his mouth wasn't curved up in a smile, his eyes seemed softer. They continued in silence through the rest of the song. By then Robert had appeared near the dancing square, so they stayed partners for another song.

Vaughn nervously cleared his throat and looked above Chelsea's head as he said, "You look… really nice today." Chelsea laughed as she blushed with embarrassment. I should be used to compliments Chelsea chided herself, thinking of the many parties she had attended in her past. Perhaps it was because she wasn't used to being dressed nicely in front of the villagers, in front of people she actually wanted to please. Also avoiding his gaze she thanked him. Vaughn relaxed a little into his smirk as he added, "The dance was really nice, too."

"I'm just glad no one ran into each other. Most of our practice was individual," Chelsea remarked. Vaughn chuckled.

Chelsea looked up at him quizzically and asked, "So…you saw the dance then?" Vaughn nodded. "I looked…well, I didn't see you in the crowd so I thought you weren't here."

"I was in the back," Vaughn remarked. "I'm tall enough to see over most peoples' heads." He looked back down at Chelsea, cocking an eyebrow as he inquired, "Whose idea was it to kiss to the crowd."

Chelsea started, but instead let out an exasperated sigh and said, "Lanna."

"Should have known."

Just then Denny and Lanna danced over to where Chelsea and Vaughn were. Denny gave Vaughn a little wink while Lanna gave Chelsea a shrewd look, shifting her gaze to Chelsea's dance partner. Both Vaughn and Chelsea scowled. Denny burst out laughing.

"You two look exactly alike!" he cried as Lanna giggled in agreement. Chelsea and Vaughn looked at each other, turned a light shade of red, and then looked away.

When the song ended, Vaughn led Chelsea off of the dance floor. He let go of her hand and tipped his hat. As he started to walk away he felt a slight tug at his vest. As he turned Chelsea sheepishly said, "I'm glad you came today."

Vaughn's eyes widened. "Oh… really? I um… I'm glad I did, too." She smiled and thanked him again before letting him go on his way. Walking in the other direction, he turned back to see Chelsea admiring a group of flowers, a soft smile on her face. He tugged his hat over his eyes and continued to walk away to hide that he was smiling too.

* * *

As the day rolled on several people had switched dance partners. Lanna took a turn with her obsessive fan while Chelsea danced with Denny, mostly to keep Denny from strangling the man. The man was so excited to be dancing with Lanna that he was more jumping in place than dancing, talking a mile a minute as Lanna smiled politely, if a little worriedly. Chelsea managed to switch their dance conversation to that of amusement, as she and Denny took turns laughing at how ridiculous it was.

Pierre also danced with his crazy fan, who put her head on his shoulder and looked as though she were in a dream. Mark and Elliot stood guard on either side of Natalie, looking at each other nervously as she cracked her knuckles, her death stare never leaving the dancing pair. Sabrina and Julia giggled to each other from the side.

Some of the older residents took turns on the dance floor as well. Chen and Mirabelle danced a few dances together, Mirabelle revealing that she could be quite light on her feet when she wanted to. There was a more comical display between Gannon, who moved awkwardly with embarrassment, and Felicia, excessively amused by his awkward determination. Even Regis took a turn on the dance floor later on with Felicia, as they discussed gems and fine jewelry. Of course he also made certain to dance with his beautiful Sabrina.

Even Mark and Chelsea took a turn together. Chelsea listened happily as Mark described his day with Sabrina. Chelsea commented that he was acting like a girl, to which Mark responded with a mock huff and head turn. Chelsea's lip quivered and no sooner did Mark make eye contact they both burst out laughing.

Something caught Mark's attention that made him frown sadly. Chelsea turned to see that Sabrina and Vaughn were dancing together. Sabrina was blushing furiously, though Vaughn didn't notice and danced with a blank look on his face. Chelsea gave Mark a sympathetic look and tried to cheer him up during the rest of the dance.

When it finished and the men led their partners off the dance floor, Mark led Chelsea towards the place Sabrina and Vaughn were standing. Before they could reach the pair, Vaughn tipped his hat to Sabrina and disappeared into the crowd. Mark side glanced at Chelsea to see if she was bothered by this, but instead she wore an amused grin. Once they closed the distance, Chelsea stayed very briefly before bowing and moving into the crowd as well.

As Chelsea waved goodbye and disappeared, Sabrina said sadly, almost to herself, "I don't think she likes me very much."

Mark looked down at her surprised. He put his hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at his serious but kind expression. "I can assure you that is not the case," he said. He wanted to tell her the real reason Chelsea had left them alone, but was afraid it would scare her off. It's too soon, Mark told himself, but someday.

The crowd was starting to dissipate as people began to make their way home. The festival was coming to a close, and there were only a few sets left before the band called it quits. Chelsea was content to leave herself until she spotted Robert by one of the tables. He was leaning against one of the tables and looking down at the ground, apparently lost in thought. She couldn't recall seeing him stand up to dance with anyone all day and suddenly felt very guilty. He had asked her days in advance and she avoided him then, too.

She walked up to him and stood in the place he was looking down at. His eyebrows rose slightly as he slowly looked up to see her standing before him. He didn't jump in surprise, or start talking excitedly, so she knew she had let him down and began to feel even worse.

"I'm sorry, Robert," she said sadly. He gave her the same flat look as before, though his eyebrows had risen slightly in curiosity. She looked down and continued. "I'm sorry I never answered your invite, and I'm sorry I rushed off when you asked a second time. It wasn't polite of me."

"So then why did you do it?" Robert asked calmly. Chelsea looked up, wondering if he was mad at her; he was unusually calm for… well for Robert. He looked at her politely, no trace of anger in his expression. On the contrary, he wore a lazy expression, a small smile curving the corner of his mouth when Chelsea continued to stare.

"I guess… I don't know… you make me a little nervous sometimes," she finally answered.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he replied with a sympathetic frown. "I apologize as well. I did not mean to make you nervous."

A moment of silence passed between them. Music could be heard in the background as the band finished with their second-to-last song. Chelsea smiled and held her hand out to him. "Would a dance make it up to you?" she asked. "You should stand for at least one dance at the Goddess Festival."

Robert half smiled and pushed away from the table he'd been leaning on, "Certainly. It would be my honor." He maneuvered his arm so that Chelsea's extended hand would rest in its crook and thus escorted her to the dance floor. They found an open space on the dance floor and took the usual position; Chelsea's hand on his shoulder, his on her waist, and the other hands clasped together. The music started and Robert took the lead. Though keeping eye contact with one another they danced in silence as Robert seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Finally Chelsea spoke.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Perfectly fine, why do you ask?"

"You just seem… different," she responded.

"Well…," he looked forward above Chelsea's head as he contemplated the question. "I suppose you could say this is… closer to my real personality. I'm not quite so perky all the time as I would have people believe." He added with a half smile.

"But why do you hide behind such a mask?"

He looked down at her and smiled, "For the same reason you used to hide behind yours. It's just easier that way." Chelsea's face contorted slightly as she tried to understand what mask he meant. "The shy girl standing alone, never speaking unless spoken to, and never has a reason to smile." Chelsea stiffened, realizing he was referring to the way she was before coming to the island, and almost missed a step. He leaned in closer and added, "But you've long since taken your mask off."

They danced in silence for a while longer as now Chelsea was lost in thought. "I suppose you're right," she finally said. "It was easier to hide behind the mask. But then, I never _did_ have much reason to smile back then." Robert frowned at her response. "But the people of this island never expected me to be anyone but myself, so I didn't need one anymore."

Chelsea smiled to herself in a way she Robert had never seen her smile in the city, so he relented that it must be true. But perhaps now that she had a more positive outlook on life, convincing her to take over the company wouldn't have to be like pulling teeth. And this time, she wouldn't be alone; he would stay with her through it all. He decided to change the topic. "You never answered my question, by the way." Chelsea cocked her head curiously. "How do you like the dress?"

Chelsea smiled and said, "The dresses are very beautiful, very traditional. I'm truly impressed; you did a great job." Robert beamed in a fashion she was more used to from him, clearly pleased by the compliment.

"I'm glad you like it, but you know," he said with a small sigh, "there was another design I liked a lot more. I couldn't afford the fabric, though."

"Oh?" Chelsea inquired.

Robert smiled down at her slyly, pleased to have captured her curiosity. "Yes, it was a design from a small village in the mountains. It was suppose to be replaced by a theme park, but apparently a series of strange discoveries turned it into a national preserve. The amazing rainbow fabric and dress design being one of them."

"What did the dress look like? And what do you mean rainbow? Like tie-dye?"

"It was silk fabric with a rainbow of colors that seemed to be woven in. No one can explain how they made it; it's apparently a well guarded secret."

"I can imagine so," Chelsea added, "If it's what helped them keep their village alive."

"Yes well, the design the fabric was displayed in was just as beautiful. It had puffy sleeves, a slimming figure overall, with circular pieces of fabric in the back to balance the wings attached to the top." To Robert's great pleasure Chelsea listened to him with interest as he described it.

"It sounds very beautiful," Chelsea said when he finished. "It's too bad we couldn't afford it."

"If you like, I can draw it up and show the design to you the next time I come over to help," Robert offered kindly.

Chelsea smiled. "I would like that."

They danced in content silence for a few moments. When the song was about to end, Chelsea spoke up. "You know, Robert?" He gave her his full attention. "I… like you without your mask on. You're easier to talk to."

"Oh!... um, well, I…?" he stammered. For the first time since she had known him, Robert looked embarrassed. His eyes had widened innocently, he was blushing slightly, and didn't seem to know where to look. Chelsea couldn't help but giggle at his reaction to her comment. Still a bit flustered, he shrugged and said, "I can… I can try. It's hard to break old habits, though. A-and I do warn you, sometimes I really am that excited."

Chelsea laughed and said, "I understand. Just… please try not to get too carried away?"

Robert smiled. "I'll try."

The music ended and Robert escorted her off of the dance floor. Nathan gathered all those who were still present and wished them all a safe trip home. Robert was about to offer Chelsea an escort home, but before he was able Lanna came over with the rest of the motley crew and suggested they all leave in a big group. Chelsea happily agreed, and Robert sighed a bit to himself. Putting on his usual smile, he contented himself to discussing further plans for the music festival with Lanna.

Chelsea conversed with Julia and Mirabelle as Elliot had stayed behind with Taro, Gannon, and Chen to make sure everything was put away properly. Nathan and Alisa had also stayed behind to make sure the statue was properly transported home. Felicia, who agreed to baby sit, giggled as the Eliza and Charlie talked about what game they should play together. Mark conversed with Regis about mining and gems as Sabrina walked along the other side of her father, lost in thought. She was blushing slightly, so Chelsea guessed she must sill be thinking about Vaughn. It looked as though the only one who didn't know about her crush now was Vaughn. Denny was laughing about some joke at Pierre's expense, causing Natalie to scold him, which only made him laugh harder.

The group became smaller and smaller as groups dispersed towards their own homes. Chelsea smiled slyly as Denny stayed behind with Lanna, but the couple simply returned with smiles and waving hands. Natalie and Pierre were next; as Pierre wanted to show Natalie that a certain fall flower could actually be used to make a kind of medicine. Not wishing to evoke Natalie's wrath, she decided not to tease them. Robert and Mark went as far as Regis' mansion before turning back to the hotel. Mark went with Robert to show him the un-marked pathway that would cut his travel time in half.

Chelsea continued on with Julia and Mirabelle as Julia talked excitedly about her time with Elliot. Chelsea smiled and listened politely, happy for her friend. It seemed everyone was pairing up these days. They continued through the narrow pass and into the main part of town, the animal shop now in sight. As they got closer they could see a figure leaning on the wall next to the doors.

Finally reaching the shop Chelsea said goodbye to Julia and Mirabelle. Then she turned to the leaning figure, "Good night, Vaughn." He looked up, gave her his half-smile and touched the brim of his hat.

"Why don't you walk Chelsea home, Vaughn?" Mirabelle suggested, gaining a flat look from Vaughn. Julia giggled.

"That's okay," Chelsea laughed. "I'm not too far off. Enjoy the rest of your evening, and have a safe trip, Vaughn." Vaughn smirked in response, and with one last smile, Chelsea continued down the road to her farm.

Julia looked at Vaughn's smile and said, "You could still follow her, you know."

Vaughn rolled his eyes and walked inside without a word. Julia giggled to herself. One look at her mother confirmed that Mirabelle was thinking the same thing; how much longer was he going to deny it?


	19. Content

Mark whipped his brow and smiled at the fields before him; the potato crop had finally come in. Chelsea, who had gone with him to the fields before heading to the animal pens, had complimented him on a job well done for taking such good care of the fields. He knew he wouldn't have done half as well with the crops if it hadn't been for her expertise on when to water them, but he nonetheless felt a sense of pride. Anyone could raise turnips, but potatoes were more sensitive. Now if only the cucumbers would turn out as well, he thought to himself as he tended them.

Just as Mark finished with the cucumbers, Chelsea returned to help harvest the potatoes. She must have been in a good mood because she was filled with nothing but praise for Mark. Maybe she's just happy to have some help, Mark thought to himself as he blushed from yet another compliment. With two pairs of hands, the harvesting didn't take terribly long. Mark spread the new seeds across plowed areas as Chelsea followed behind him with the watering can.

They took the potatoes to the shipping bin and put most of them in, as Chelsea wanted to keep a few for cooking. She let Mark have half of what she kept on hand to do with what he wished.

"Sell them, share them, or brag with them, whatever you want to do," she laughed. They both entered her house to wash their potatoes in the sink. Chelsea gave him something to dry his with as she put her bag on the table and searched for something. She pulled out some freshly made cheese and brought it to the counter. She covered it with a plastic wrap then pulled out a ribbon from a drawer.

"What's that for?" Mark asked as she tied the ribbon around the cheese.

"Today is Mirabelle's birthday," she said happily. "I'm going to bring it to her when I buy some more pet food. We're starting to run low."

"You don't want to get there too early though. Vaughn might not be off work yet, and then you'd have to wait around all that time," Mark teased.

"Oh, shut up," Chelsea said smiling as she narrowed her eyes at him.

Mark chuckled as he gathered his potatoes into his bag. He had seen the bag hanging in Chen's shop for a long time; it was similar to Chelsea's in its mysterious ability to fit anything inside. Now that he was working on the farm, he had finally invested in one. Chelsea handed him his pay for the day, which she insisted should be more than just potatoes. They both started to head out the door when Chelsea's phone started to ring. Chelsea waved goodbye to Mark as he continued out the door and went to answer it.

* * *

"Hello, dear! What can I help you with?" Mirabelle chimed as Chelsea walked through the door.

"Hi." Chelsea responded unenthusiastically. She walked up to the front with a dazed expression. Mirabelle looked at her with concern, but Chelsea kept her gaze down.

"Is that Chelsea?" Julia asked from the kitchen. "How are you today?"

"Hey," she returned as unemotionally as before.

"What's wrong?" Julia asked, rushing into the main room.

Chelsea didn't answer, and instead she asked Mirabelle, "Can I get some pet food please? 30 should be fine…."

"Um… alright dear, do you want that delivered to your feeder?" Mirabelle asked uncertainly.

"Sure… that's fine." She put the money on the table and made her way to the door. Then she stopped, turned back and placed Mirabelle's gift on the counter. "Happy Birthday, Mirabelle," she mumbled, turning back around and out the door, looking more sullen than either woman had ever seen before.

"…Wonder if something is wrong," Vaughn heard the tail end of what Julia was saying as he walked into the shop.

"I agree. I've never seen her like that before." Mirabelle added.

Vaughn didn't have to wonder long who they were talking about. Julia turned to him and got right to the point. "We think something is wrong with Chelsea," she said with a concerned look on her face.

"Oh?" he said, keeping his voice even; this could be another trap like before.

Mirabelle continued, "Yes, I think something is very wrong." When Vaughn said nothing the girls exchanged looks. "We think you should go and check on her."

"Are you sure this isn't just another excuse to get me over there?" he asked as he narrowed his eyes at her.

"That's mean, Vaughn," Julia barked. "You shouldn't jump to conclusions like that."

"Vaughn," Mirabelle said in a low tone to get his attention. Her expression was very serious. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "Don't you think it's unusual that Chelsea didn't wait for you to get off of work like she normally does?" Mirabelle had a point. He looked from her to Julia, not sure whether to believe this was a trick or if something was really wrong.

"Besides," Mirabelle added as she slammed a pile of pet food on the counter. "We need you to deliver this to her farm. So you really have no choice in the matter." The usually perky woman held no amusement in her voice as she spoke.

"Fine," he said in a less harsh tone than before. He put the pet food on a cart he could roll behind him and set off for her farm. As he was about to turn at the crossroad, he noticed that all four members of the animal shop's neighboring shipping business were outside talking about something.

"Vaughn, can you come here for a second?" Taro asked. Vaughn wheeled the cart over and rested the handle on the shipping bin.

"Hey, cowboy, are you going to Chelsea's ranch?" Natalie asked.

Vaughn nodded. "Why?"

"Well she just went up that way and we were wondering if we could trouble you to check on her for us," Felicia said with a hint of a frown on her face.

"I said hello to her and she walked right past as if she didn't here me," Elliot spoke up.

"She didn't respond to me, either," Natalie added.

"She came in here and asked how fast our new ferry was," Taro explained. "She mentioned the city so I told her it could get her there in about half a day, as opposed to the two days is used to take. Then she said she may have to leave the island for a few days and left without another word."

"We think something is terribly wrong," Felicia said worriedly.

"Anyway, since you're on your way there could you figure out what's going on?" Taro asked.

"If the pressure of the ranch is getting to her, tell her that she only needs to ask for help," Felicia offered.

"That's right! We're all here to help each other after all," Elliot said as he held up his fist.

"Alright, alright," Vaughn said to interrupt their ramblings. "I'll check on her and figure out what's wrong." He picked up the cart handle and walked off towards the ranch.

"Good luck, cowboy," Natalie called behind him.

* * *

Vaughn decided to first drop off the pet food before checking for Chelsea at her house. He found Chelsea just outside of it; she was sitting on the ground leaning up against the wall and petting her dog, Spark, who was whimpering. She just stroked Spark with a blank expression.

Her glazed eyes looked up to see him standing there. She stood abruptly and brushed herself off as she said, "Sorry, I didn't see you. Do you need something?"

"You ordered pet food, remember?" He replied, lifting one of the bags.

"Oh…right," she said distractedly. "You can…just put it in, I guess."

Vaughn did not move. "So what's wrong?"

"Nothing… nothing's wrong," she replied. Vaughn noted that she intentionally avoided eye contact with him.

He held up his gloved hand, extended his fingers, and pointed to each in turn, watching her closely. "Mirabelle and Julia said you were acting strangely, Felicia is worried that the ranch is too much work, Taro said you asked about a boat, the 'twins' are whining that you didn't talk to them, and now I'm here so you might as well tell me. What's wrong?" he repeated a little softer.

Chelsea finally looked at him. The sorrow in her eyes was enough to create a twinge of worry in his chest. She took a slow shuddering breath. For a while she said nothing. She forced a smile that only served to illustrate the depths of her pain. "You remember when I ran off to write my father a letter?" Vaughn nodded. Chelsea took another deep breath. In her next few sentences she began to stutter. "Well, I wrote to him that, that I loved him and… that I forgave him for everything." Chelsea's face contorted for a moment as she struggled to control her emotions. "The hospital called me this morning…. They said he'd been holding a letter and then he, he just," Chelsea blinked the tears out of her eyes causing them to flow down her cheeks freely; Vaughn swallowed hard against the lump in his own throat. "He closed his eyes and didn't open them again!" The last word came out in a higher pitch, merging with a howl that tore through her soul.

The cry Chelsea unleashed was almost too painful to bear. It was as if she'd been stabbed through the heart in a way that would never heal. Vaughn's eyes clouded as she clutched her stomach and crouched down to the ground, each new breath followed by another painful wail.

His mind drifted back to the night he lost his parents. When the hurricane had turned unexpectedly and hit their town, when his father left the shelter of the house to secure the animals in the barn, when the house came down anyway and his mother shielded his five-year-old self, and how he had been alone. He was alone for almost two days before anyone could finally reach him inside the twisted wreckage of the house. Two days crying for help, for mom to open her eyes, and for dad to come save them.

Vaughn closed his eyes and forced his mind back into the present. When he opened them again he saw that Chelsea was now standing again, though she was still shuddering, and had turned away from him. "Sorry…" she mumbled as she rubbed at her eyes. She didn't want to be seen in this state. Try as she might, the tears would not go away.

"Chelsea," Vaughn began softly.

"Can you tell everyone that I'm okay?" she asked in as steady a voice as she could muster. "I'll be okay, I just need some time alone that's all."

"It doesn't help," he replied, walking forward and stopping just behind her. She would not be alone like he was.

"Chelsea," he said again. She turned her head over her shoulder slightly, looking down to avoid eye contact. He placed his hand on her shoulder, gently turning her the rest of the way. Without warning he closed the last few inches between them and wrapped his arms around her.

Vaughn's embrace broke through Chelsea's last defenses, as if contact with another human untied a knot in her chest and surged her emotions to the surface. Despair reclaimed her as she wailed in sorrow, her cries muffled by Vaughn's chest. He closed his eyes and rested his chin on her bandana as she clutched to his vest and grieved for the loss of her father. Not only did she grieve for his loss, she now feared for her future.

As Chelsea cried she stammered broken phrases: it was all her fault, she should have been there, he never had a chance to see her farm, and she should have gone to see him knowing how sick he was. Vaughn let her speak her mind, understanding from experience that guilt and blame were just another part of grieving.

* * *

The doctor quietly called the time of death, instructing one of the nurses to call his daughter and give her the news. Clarice stood in the room rigidly as another nurse folded Franklin's arms over his chest and, putting the letter back in its envelope, placed it in between his hands. Clarice's fists began to shake as a defiant tear fell onto her cheek and streamed down her face. The doctor ordered everyone out of the room to give her some time alone.

She moved to the side of his bed and glared down at him. She wanted to be furious, to yell at him for making her feel this way, but she knew he was no longer able to hear her. She collapsed into the bedside chair and placing her head and arms on the bed next to his cold one she cried in angry defiance. She felt abandoned and betrayed. How could he leave her alone? She was angry with him yet miserable without him. He was gone, and her future was by no means guaranteed. Her selfish daughter had seen to that. But Chelsea was not going to get away with this any longer, Clarice thought to herself as she stopped her sobbing and glared at the ground. A nurse was telling her daughter about his passing just outside the room, and she knew that Chelsea would feel obligated to go to his funeral. Clarice would find and speak with her there; this nonsense had gone on long enough. Her place was with the company, as she had been raised to do, not on some dirty farm on some silly island. It was time for her vacation to come to an end; Chelsea was never going back to that farm.

* * *

Chelsea's breathing slowed and her shaking finally stopped. Vaughn guessed that she was just about finished and let go. Though she still kept her gaze down, her expression was much more serene and calm than it had been before.

"It's all my fault," Chelsea said quietly. "He was reading my letter."

"It is not your fault," he said sternly, though not unkindly. Chelsea looked up at him sadly. "You said your father was getting worse. The doctors said he only had a few months left. It was only a matter of time."

"That's true, but…" she looked down, "I feel like my letter pushed him over the edge."

Vaughn contemplated this, then after a short pause he said, "Maybe that's a good thing." Chelsea looked at him with astonishment and was about to protest, but he cut her off. "You forgave him, right? Maybe that was the last thing he needed to go peacefully. If guilt is what kept him around, then its better he left sooner than later. He would have only gotten worse, and suffered more."

Chelsea took a deep breath and let it out slowly in a long sigh. She gazed out at her fields and said nothing. Vaughn put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly and told her to wait for him inside her house while he took the pet food to the feeder in the stable. She complied, nodding slightly and began walking towards the house. Spark looked back and fourth between them, not sure which one to follow; Vaughn looked down at her and indicated with his eyes that she should go with Chelsea. He stored the food in the feeder and made his way to the house.

He gave a warning knock before opening the door. Chelsea was sitting at the table, Spark happily in her lap. She barked a greeting to Vaughn as he entered which made Chelsea's lips curl up in a half smile. On the table there was a mug filled with tea by Chelsea and on the opposite side a glass of milk. Despite the depressing situation Vaughn couldn't help but smile inwardly. Either Chelsea must have known he'd yet to go on his break, or simply knew him to well. Probably both, he thought to himself, noticing a chocolate bar beside it.

He went first to the sink in the kitchen to wash his hands. Chelsea absently sipped at her tea as she looked towards the window and stroked Spark. When Vaughn sat down she let him enjoy some of the chocolate and the milk before she spoke.

"Vaughn? How early does the ferry leave tomorrow morning?" she asked.

He finished a sip and set the glass on the table. "Early, why?"

"I have to return to the city," she answered impassively.

"What?!" Vaughn protested. "You're not—"

"To go to the funeral," she cut him off. Vaughn furrowed his eyebrows and watched her carefully. She gazed towards the window a bit longer and let out a sigh in a fashion that reminded Vaughn of their encounter in the city; same depressed acceptance. Then she looked him in the eye and revealed what she feared. "The nurse said the funeral is on the 13th two days from now. I don't want to be gone long but I'm not sure…" she hesitated, "I'm not sure how I'll be able to get away this time. I was only allowed to come back because father was still alive. Now that he's gone I… well I stand up to my mother, but I usually don't win. I don't think I'll be able to talk my way out of staying."

"You know how I feel. If you leave the ranch—," he began.

"I know, I know, you'll never forgive me." She put Spark on the ground (who went to sniff Vaughn's feet) and placed her elbows on the table, smoothing her bandana off of her head. Chelsea closed her eyes and rubbed her temples as she said, "I need to figure out something before the ferry leaves tomorrow."

An idea entered Vaughn's mind that he wasn't ready to speak so instead he suggested, "Maybe you should take Gannon with you. I doubt Clarice would try convincing you to leave with him around."

Chelsea laughed at the idea. "Something tells me she would become one of his fears right after dogs. Besides, Gannon's too busy to leave the island for a funeral." She let out another mock laugh as she thought aloud, "or maybe I should take Robert with me." Vaughn hoped she wasn't serious. "No, that wouldn't work either. As thrilled as he'd be to accompany me he has no desire to find me back on a farm." Vaughn nodded in agreement.

Chelsea rested her head on the table into her folded arms. Vaughn watched her for a few moments, and then said his idea aloud. "What if I went with you?"

Chelsea's head shot up. "What? No! I couldn't ask you to—."

"You didn't. I'm asking."

"But… going to the funeral would cost you at least two days of work," she protested. "I couldn't ask you to do that. Nothing is more important to you than money, you told me so yourself."

"That's right, there is nothing more important to me than money," Vaughn said. "And if you leave the ranch the other shops on this island will go under, too. Losing two days of work to make sure you come back is a lot better than losing two days a week at Mirabelle's."

"I'm sure if you took over the animals, Mark could take care of the crops, and the ranch would do just fine without me," Chelsea remarked humorlessly.

"Don't you dare say that!" Vaughn scolded her angrily. Chelsea instantly regretted her sarcasm and her face contorted to that of pain. Vaughn took a deep breath and tried to remind himself that she was still emotionally unstable right now. Even so, it needed to be said; the idea of giving up the ranch, even as a joke, needed to be shot down harshly or she might actually consider it.

"I can't ask you to take time off of work," she said again.

"I don't remember hearing you ask," Vaughn returned, using Robert's line from a few days ago. This was not lost on Chelsea, who snorted in humor. "I have to be back by the 14th, anyway. If we leave tomorrow morning and then right after the funeral, your mother won't have any time to argue, and we won't be gone more than two days," he reasoned.

"Then at least let me pay you what money you would lose for those two days," she said.

Vaughn cocked an eyebrow at her. "You want to pay me to go to a funeral? Never heard that one before."

Chelsea let out an exasperated huff. "What kind of answer is that from a man who cares only about money?" she argued.

"Paying a man to attend the funeral of a guy he's never met sounds pretty bad to me," Vaughn shot back. He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair.

Chelsea gave him a disbelieving look and shook her head slowly. She got up from the table and began to pace the room. Vaughn smiled from under his hat as his eyes followed her. Unlike him she didn't restrain her emotions, and thus had a wide range of facial expressions, so it was fun to irritate her from time to time.

She turned to him and held up a finger. "One day." Vaughn considered this.

"One day," he agreed, getting up from the table and holding his hand out to shake on the matter.

Chelsea pulled hers away and gave him an evil grin. "One day, and you stand up for Julia's square dance at the talent show."

Vaughn's eyes widened as he took a step back, "What! No, no deal." He pulled his arm away protectively.

Chelsea smiled again. Secretly she was happy he had volunteered to be with her, but she felt guilty for costing him the days of work. As for the festival, well, that was just a bonus. "I promise to join in on the dance even if I have to wrestle my way from back stage. Think of it as my promise to stay on the island at least that long."

Hesitantly he brought his hand back, and with red cheeks and a look of irritation, he shook on it. "Fine, done." He turned back to the table, sat down and took an aggressive bite out of his chocolate bar.

Knowing that the slightest bit could change his mind about the second half of the deal, she bit her lip to keep from laughing. She decided she had better give him some time to get over his embarrassment. Instead of sitting back down at the table she walked towards the window and gazed out at the farm as she attempted to work out her mixed emotions.

The first emotion to grip her was sadness. She looked over at the extra bed called the husband bed. She had ordered it from Chen in order to have a place for her father when he came to visit; she now knew that had only ever been wishful thinking.

Her heart then filled with dread as the next realization washed over her. Now that he was gone, she would be expected to take over the company. Her mind cried defiantly against what was now forced onto her shoulders. She didn't have time to run the company and the farm, one of them would have to go. And as much as she hated to admit it, she knew of more people able to take over her ranch than people to take over her…yes it was hers now, her company. Her mother was blocked by contract to take over without Franklin; if she could, she would have done so long ago. And even though the company was now hers, according to the contract she could only relinquish it to an heir or someone who could be proved to be more capable than her, a process that took years to accomplish.

Training Mark to take over the ranch was turning into a very real possibility. It had only taken her a year to accumulate all that she had now. Though there was still a lot more to do, with maybe another half year of training, Mark would be more than capable of taking over. At least someone's dreams would come true, Chelsea thought darkly to herself.

She gazed out the window as Argan went running past. He whinnied and threw his head in the air happily as he pranced about the field. His antics made Chelsea smile. She would do whatever she could to keep this place. It meant as much to her as… as money meant to Vaughn, she laughed inwardly.

Thinking of him pushed away her anxieties. Instead it generated a new distress, a feeling of longing. Mark had told her to search her feelings, and she had. She had known him for almost a year now and had become very fond of him. Though he was rude and didn't say much at first, it wasn't much different from how she had been in the city; it was a mask to hide behind. If the Goddess Festival wasn't the proof she was looking for, his actions today were. She could no longer deny that she cared about him more than any other man she had before. At the same time she didn't want to push him away. She had once heard him respond to Julia's teasing that he preferred to be alone, and Chelsea felt he needed a friend more than he needed a girlfriend. Even if nothing ever happened between them, she was content to be at least that much. She looked at the clouds through the window and smiled to herself.

Something entered her left plane of vision. She looked down to see Vaughn handing her cup of tea to her. She smiled and gently lifted it out of his hands.

"Thank you… for everything. I'm glad I have you as a friend," she said peaceful tone.

Vaughn's eyes widened innocently. "I…um, thank you," he said. Chelsea smiled fondly at him. He cleared his throat and looked away. "I'll… go tell Mirabelle you'll need her help with the animals for a while." He turned to her and added, "Call Mark and tell him he's on his own for a few days."

"I will," she said with a smile.

Vaughn swallowed nervously and went out the door. His heart was still pounding as he walked away from the house. Something about the way she looked at him made him uncomfortable. He wasn't used to people actually wanting him around, and his friendship with Chelsea confused him. He didn't care what people thought about him, that was their problem, but being around Chelsea was different; it made him both calm and nervous. Not wanting to think about it any further, he shook himself to clear his head and focus on the task at hand.

* * *

Vaughn went to Mirabelle's first to give them the news. They quickly agreed to watch over her animals, and since Vaughn only wanted to explain it once, Julia went with him to Taro's where she explained what was bothering Chelsea. As she began to gossip with Natalie and Elliot on the matter, Vaughn worked out a ferry schedule with Felicia. Upon discovering that he would be accompanying her, the whole house was generally pleased and knew they could count on him to bring her back safely. Their confidence in him made Vaughn a little uncomfortable, so he excused himself and went to the beach instead of the forest. When Natalie asked Julia what his problem was, she just laughed and said Vaughn wasn't used to people trusting him, since he thought most people didn't like him.

* * *

Chelsea spent the rest of her day preparing. She took her animal tools to the barn and placed them inside, just in case Mirabelle and Julia wanted to use them. Returning to the house she made a call to her company's main secretary. Chelsea instructed him to make hotel reservations for two people, and ordered that funeral attire be sent to the rooms. Thanking him, she hung up the phone and took some paper and a pen to her table. She wrote a note for Mark and a note for Mirabelle, thanking both of them. In Mark's letter she told him he was welcome to enter the house in case there was anything he needed, where the tools would be, and some general instructions about how much water the crops would need. She put it in an envelope and dropped a spare key inside; she would get it back from him when she returned. Mirabelle's letter was pinned to the front of the house; the closest building on the property and hopefully the first place they would look.

She focused on packing until she decided it was late enough for Mark to have returned to the hotel. She gave him a call and explained what had transpired, starting with the phone call. Mark's worry and sympathizing words returned the pain in Chelsea's chest, but she pushed the emotions down so as not to worry him further. She said she left him a key in a letter she would slip under the mat, as she would be gone before he arrived in the morning. Mark asked when she had to leave, to which she told him 4:30 in the morning. They hung up and Chelsea went outside to call Argan and Spark. She put Argan back in the stables and let Spark follow her to the house. She went to be early to ensure waking up on time. Curling up with Spark and the chicken plushie, she untied the knot inside of her once more and cried herself to sleep.

Stepping out of her house with her suitcase and Spark on her heels at about 4:20, she was surprised to see Mark walking up from the main road. As soon as he reached her he pulled her into a hug. First she laughed, which turned into a cry as he held her. The hug was brief, as Chelsea had to get to the ferry.

He smiled sympathetically. "The farm will be in good hands, I promise." He held her by her shoulders and made her look him in the eye. He cocked an eyebrow and smiled warningly, "You'd better come back soon." Chelsea laughed and made the promise.

She waved goodbye as Mark held Spark to keep her from following Chelsea. She walked quickly down the road and onto the beach. She went to the shore and waited on the dock as the ferry made its last preparations. A smaller boat was just leaving shore, and Chelsea waved to Denny who was setting off for his morning fishing. He waved back and yelled a "good luck."

A tap on her shoulder made her turn. "You ready?" Vaughn asked. She nodded and they boarded the ship.


	20. Boat Ride

The ship was scheduled to reach the city in half a day's time. Because of Chelsea's hard work and large shipments, Taro and Felicia were finally able to invest in a larger and faster boat. Previously the island had to rely on a ferry to make the island one of its stops; now the island had a ship of its own.

Vaughn usually gave the crew an extra hand whenever they had need. Whenever the rarity occurred that a woman was on board (usually moving to the island), she would spend her time sunbathing or idling by the rails to stare at the ocean. It was for this reason he and the rest of the crew were amused by Chelsea's enthusiasm to help with the launch. She was a very attentive student, listening to the sailor's instructions with child-like eagerness. Before long the ship was off and on a good course with favorable winds. Since they would easily reach the city on schedule, the Captain told Chelsea and Vaughn that they could relax for the rest of the trip.

Vaughn's request for time off had been incredibly short notice. Felicia had called the ship's radio as soon as Vaughn explained Chelsea's situation and had agreed to accompany her. Fortunately, rather than having to force a delay on transporting animals, the captain managed to find a replacement. It was a passenger named Gray, on his way to Waffle Island, one of the ferry's stops. Upon learning Gray had experience with animals the Captain had asked him to fill in temporarily. Gray had agreed, so animals were also on the ship.

As Vaughn and Chelsea were both interested in seeing the animals, they went below deck to the ship's stables. Descending the steps Chelsea saw a man with his back turned to them tending one of the horses. He had red hair and, aside from the yellow brim of his hat, he wore all blue. He must have heard them because he turned around to face the pair.

"You shouldn't be down here," he said with an expressionless face.

"Name's Vaughn. I'm the one usually in charge of the animals." He indicated Chelsea with his thumb, "She owns a ranch."

There was a long silence as the man regarded them with the same scowl Vaughn usually wore; Chelsea looked from one to the other to confirm their expressions were identical.

"Name's Gray," Gray finally said. "Why am I doing your work if you're here?" he asked gruffly.

Vaughn, unfazed by his bluntness replied, "Taking the ferry to the city." He was unsure if Chelsea minded other people knowing the reason.

Gray scowled at him, looking as though he felt conned into doing someone else's work while that person went on vacation.

"We're going to a funeral," Chelsea said in an unreadable tone that could match theirs, keeping her expression calm and passive.

"Oh," Gray's face lightened, regarding the two less harshly.

This time Vaughn broke the silence. "We can look after the animals until we get off the ship, if you want a break."

Gray considered this for a bit. "Okay," he said with a nod and made his way to the stairs. He paused on the first step and turned back. "Hey."

Chelsea turned to face him. Silently, they communicated "sorry for your loss" and "thank you." Gray nodded once more then went up the stairs.

Vaughn, who had already started towards the animals, reached the first and began checking its condition. Chelsea soon joined in, tending the animals on the opposite side of the half-circled stables. As he usually did when he worked, Vaughn went into a zen-like trance; animals always made him feel calm. Chelsea began to hum a familiar tune. Working at opposite ends as they were, they eventually met in the center, Vaughn with a sheep and Chelsea with the horse Gray had been tending.

It was only then that Vaughn realized that he had been humming, too. That was why Chelsea's tune had been so familiar; she must have been listening to him and picked up on it. She was humming in a higher octave, harmonizing with his voice. He blushed furiously, stood abruptly and walked away, leaving his sheep half-brushed.

Chelsea heard Vaughn's voice catch in his throat and in the next moment he was gone. A smirk curved Chelsea's lips; he finally noticed. Besides her half-smile she continued working as if nothing unusual had occurred, which in a way was true. She finished Vaughn's sheep when she was done with the horse.

She turned around to discover Vaughn had disappeared. Curious to where he had gone, she decided against looking for him. He probably wanted some alone time to get over his embarrassment she chuckled to herself. She found a soft bundle of hay next to a wall she could lean against. She sat down, leaning back and closing her eyes as she willed herself to think of nothing. When that didn't work and she found herself thinking of her father, she instead focused on committing the song Vaughn had been humming to memory.

A nudge against her foot indicated that she had fallen asleep. Chelsea opened her eyes and looked up at Vaughn, who was handing her a sandwich. She smiled and gratefully accepted it. Vaughn picked up a hay bundle with one arm and swung it around to land few feet from Chelsea's so that he could sit in front of her. They ate in companionable silence, drinking some milk Chelsea had brought along with her, and then shared a chocolate bar Vaughn had.

When they were finished Vaughn moved to the floor, leaning his back against his hay bundle. Shifting around until he was comfortable, he pulled his hat over his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Chelsea watched him for awhile as her mind meandered into sad thoughts. She was unsure if he had fallen asleep, but the question on her mind was too strongly set to ignore.

"Vaughn?" she asked tentatively.

"Hm?"

"How…how did your parents die?"

Vaughn looked up slowly. Chelsea had taken off her bandana and was wringing it in her hands. She kept her eyes downcast, but he could tell they were pained. He let out a small sigh.

"You… don't have to answer," she said hesitantly. "I shouldn't have…"

"No, it's okay," he cut her off. "I just don't talk about it much."

Silence fell as Chelsea kicked herself for asking. Of course he didn't want to talk about it. She shouldn't have asked. The sorrow she felt for losing her father made her feel isolated, as if she were numb to the people around her. It was why she was trying so hard not to think about it. So why on earth would he want to think about losing _both_ of his? It was just… if there was anyone she could share this pain with, it was someone who had felt it, too. It was still a stupid idea. She gritted her teeth and wrung her bandana tighter in her fists.

"There was a storm." Vaughn's voice snapped her out of her self-berating.

Vaughn looked away, towards the animals with a distant look in his eyes. Chelsea looked back down at her bandana, giving him what privacy she could and listened. "I was only five years old, so I don't remember all the details. I remember my parents talking about some storm. I remember my mother sounding worried, and my father reassuring her. I was told later on that it was a hurricane the news reported to run just south of our town, but took an unexpected turn and caught the town unaware. Anyway, that part is much fuzzier than what happened the next day.

"I was shaken awake by my mother. The walls of the house were moving violently, even when she had stopped shaking me. She held my hand and rushed me towards the kitchen. She yelled to my father not to go outside. He was by the door and told her he would be right back. I remember that he was worried about the animals, and wanted to make sure the barn would hold. Most of all I remember him say he would come back no matter what, looking very determined. My mother knelt beside me and hugged me very tightly to herself." As Vaughn recalled his past he seemed to forget that Chelsea was in the room. She kept very still; movement might snap him out of his thoughts and stop prematurely.

"I don't know how much time passed like this, I just remember looking at the front door as it shuddered from the storm and waited for my father to open it. Next think I knew, the front half of the house started to collapse under some sort of pressure. Silver hair swirled into my vision as my mother moved in front of me, holding me as tightly as she could. The main support beam came down with the whole front section of the house. The bedroom collapsed next, closing us in from both sides. Everything was crashing down, there was screaming and I was sure the house would fall completely. I don't remember why the kitchen remained standing; probably because it was backed by the hillside. What I do remember is that somewhere in the middle of it my mother's grip on me loosened.

"Eventually the house stopped shaking and the rubble settled. My mother's head was in my lap, her arms hanging loosely on my shoulders. While the front half of her body covered mine, her legs were buried under the collapsed part of the house. I pulled myself from under her and shook her, but she wouldn't move. I don't know if she was already gone or if she was just unconscious. I tried puling her free, tried shaking her awake, but nothing worked. Her silver hair was mixed with red, so she probably took a hard hit to the head. I was too young to know to stop the bleeding… too young to do anything for her." Vaughn swallowed hard and fell silent.

Chelsea's eyes welled up with tears, torn between not wanting to cry and the sympathy she felt for what he must have gone through. What his mother had sacrificed for him. Wet drops fell on Chelsea's bandana.

"After waking her didn't work I tried calling for my father to come back. He had promised to come back, but he never did. I'm not sure how long I called for him until I finally gave up.

"Anyway... it was about two days before any of the villagers finally found me. They had to dig through the remains of the house to get to the part still standing." He said, skipping to the end.

"Two days?!" Chelsea exclaimed. "How did you survive for two days without food or water? I mean, you were only five…."

"The refrigerator had survived, but all of the dairy products were either spoiled or crushed. The only other edible thing was the crop my mother had recently harvested from the greenhouse: carrots." Vaughn made the grimace he always did when he thought of carrots.

"Is that why you don't like carrots?" she asked. He nodded. Chelsea recalled from her studies of psychology that both smell and taste were linked to memory. Positive memories could be linked to favorite foods, and vice versa. Chelsea wouldn't have liked carrots either, if she had been forced to eat nothing but while her mother's body lay close by.

"Nothing but carrots does bad things to your system. That plus the smell of blood and, well… there was no where else to go. I was trapped within what was left of the house."

"What happened to your father?"

"The barn went down before the house did. They found him near the animals."

"So then none of the animals survived either? You were the only one?"

Vaughn's mouth quirked in a half smile. "No, the dog survived, too. A puppy my parents gave me for my birthday. They found him hiding in the silo."

Chelsea smiled a little bit, too. "What happened to you after that?"

Vaughn shrugged. "The people from the neighboring farm took me and the puppy in. A place called Brownie Ranch. I stayed with them until I was old enough to make it on my own. It's not that it was a bad place, it was just time to move on."

"What was the puppy's name?" Chelsea asked idly.

"'Named him Silo. He was always hiding or sleeping in there. Lived a good long life, passing away from old age just a bit before I left town."

"Did you leave because he passed away?"

Vaughn seemed surprised by this question then turned thoughtful. "Maybe."

"I'm sorry," Chelsea said sadly after a pause.

Vaughn shrugged again. "It was a long time ago."

"That doesn't make it easier does it?" she asked, curious yet concerned.

"It's not about how much time passes, really," he said. "It's more about coming to terms. When you accept there was nothing you could do. It just happens."

Silence fell as Chelsea considered his reasoning. He was right, and it made her feel a little better, enough that she decided to tease him just a little. "I know it was a long time ago, but would a hug help just a little?"

Vaughn blushed slightly and shifted uncomfortably. "I don't need it."

Chelsea smiled and left him alone, turning her attention to the animals.

"Can I ask you a question?" Vaughn said, still sounding a little uncomfortable.

"Hm?"

"I… noticed that you have two beds in your house." More specifically, Vaughn knew it was called the husband's bed.

"Oh, yeah."

"What… what was the other one for?"

Chelsea laughed darkly. "It was for my father. I had entertained the idea that I might bring him to the farm when he was well enough. I thought I could take care of him and that the fresh air of the island might help him recover. It was a stupid idea," she said shaking her head. "I know now that was just wishful thinking."

"I don't think it's a stupid idea." Vaughn replied. "Country air is better than city air. What was his illness?"

"CLL, or chronic lymphocytic leukemia. With proper treatment, someone diagnosed with it can hope to live maybe as long as twenty years. My father was diagnosed when I was very little. He didn't have much time left as it was. He…," Chelsea hesitated, "well, even then my father knew I didn't have any interest in the company. He tried having more children, but they all ended as stillborns. Eventually they just stopped trying."

"Did your mother also want more children?"

Chelsea shrugged indifferently. "I don't think so. She didn't see the point in my having siblings. Maybe she thought there might be a feud for ownership later on, but ultimately I sure she thought I would take interest someday. Her belief was 'force a child to do something enough times, they would eventually come to like it.' "

"…Did you want siblings?" Vaughn asked.

She smiled softly, almost to herself. "Yes. I dreamed about it all the time when I was younger. It would have been nice to have someone other than the nanny around."

"You had a nanny?" Vaughn asked skeptically.

"Yes, my parents often left the country for fashion shows and parties and what not. Even if they took me along, a nanny was needed to watch me."

"Isn't that the parent's job?" he responded sarcastically.

Chelsea laughed, "Not in the blueblood world it's not. No it's the parents' job to be seen at parties, and the child's job to be silent, to get old enough to finally be useful," she added bitterly.

Vaughn leaned back against the hay and stretched out, folding his arms behind his head. "So was it a full time nanny that lived in the house?"

"Yes, but I had more than one. Between… well I can't remember that far back, but until I was fourteen I had about…," Chelsea looked up as she counted, "twenty-five live-in nannies."

Vaughn's eyes widened. "Twenty-five?"

Chelsea's eyes narrowed in amusement, "My mother had very specific instructions, which she tended to change without telling anyone. Maybe she blamed the nannies for my continued lack of interest in the company." Then her expression turned somber, "but despite that I think I turned out okay."

"More than okay," Vaughn said softly. Chelsea blushed slightly. Vaughn cleared his throat and added, "Well, so long as you don't become your mother you'd turn out 'okay.' " Chelsea laughed in response.

Vaughn stood up and stretched his limbs. Chelsea followed suit, re-folding her bandana and placing it back on hear head. "The animals will be fine on their own for a while. We should get some fresh air," he said. He straightened his hat on his head then went up the stairs, Chelsea close behind.

The sun was blinding at first, but once her eyes adjusted, Chelsea stared into the blue ocean as far as it could go before it merged with the sky. Looking in the direction the ship was heading she saw a break in the line; already they were approaching land.

She heard a soft sigh escape Vaughn's lips and looked in his direction. He was leaning against the rail like she was, gazing out to the ocean and looking peaceful. "You really like the ocean, don't you?"

"When the ocean's calm, I'm calm," he replied.

"This is a good line of work for you, then," Chelsea smiled. "The ocean and the animals, together in one job."

Vaughn smiled and tipped his hat. "Yeah."

The two didn't say much more for the rest of the trip, but from a companionable silence rather than an awkward one, although there was some awkwardness at times when Chelsea attempted to speak to Gray. He did, however, speak to Vaughn, asking for things he should expect with the animals. The two were so similar and seemed to get along so well that Chelsea hoped it wouldn't be the last time they saw Gray. A few hours later and they arrived at port. Vaughn and Chelsea each took turns shaking hands with Gray and wished him well.

They slung their bags over their shoulders as the car arrived to take them to the hotel. As they walked towards the limo, to which Vaughn cocked an eyebrow and Chelsea groaned, she felt a brief stab of fear. Though she had lived in the city for twenty years, since starting her life on the island, being here made her uneasy. It didn't feel like home, if it ever had at all, and she hoped she would be able to leave quickly. Perhaps it was because she knew lurking somewhere in the skyscrapers was her mother. Probably waiting with a rope and some duct tape she mused. Vaughn's irritated call snapped her out of her thoughts and got her walking towards the car again. It's not like she called for a limo, it was far too conspicuous for her tastes. Instead of snapping back, she instead teased him to enjoy it while he could, because he would never see the inside of one ever again.


	21. Funeral

"There must be some mistake," Chelsea pleaded to the man at the front desk.

"No, ma'am there's no mistake." The man behind the desk answered in confusion. "The room was booked for two people to stay the night."

"No… no I wanted two rooms," she insisted.

The man turned the book around to face her side of the desk and pointed to a row. Room 405, which had two queen-size beds, wad indeed booked under her name. Chelsea tried to recall exactly what she had said to the secretary. She had said room reservations for two people… Chelsea let out an exasperated sigh as she realized the misunderstanding. "Are there any other available rooms for the night?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the man frowned sadly, "but we're completely booked for the night. I could try to call some other hotels and see if they have two open rooms, but on such short notice…."

"No, that's alright. We'll take the room as is. I'm sorry for all the trouble," she sighed.

"Are you sure?" he asked uncertain.

Chelsea let out another sigh and nodded, "Yes, I'm sure." She took the room key and tried to give him a genuine smile. "Thank you."

She returned to where Vaughn stood in the lobby. "Well?" he asked.

"No good, looks like we're sharing a room."

They took the stairs to the fourth floor and stared at the door of room 405.

"Way to go, Sherlock," Vaughn said irritably.

Chelsea's shoulders slumped, "Well, what could I do? The reservation was set."

"You could have put up more of a fight," he continued. "Aren't you supposed to be a snobby rich girl or something?"

"Yeah, well, I was never really good at this," she said. She turned her head towards him and added wryly, "Why do you think I was 'sent to the farm' so to speak?"

"Whatever," he huffed. He slid the room key and opened the door in one fluid motion. He held it open for her as she dragged herself in, closing the door behind him. He threw his bag on the bed closer to the door and sat down irritably as Chelsea inspected the room.

The first half of the room was like a small hallway; the entrance to the bathroom was on the left side with a closet on the right. A few steps in the room widened into an open space, both beds against the left wall, each with their own night stand to the left. The right side was occupied by a table with two chairs, a coffee maker and an ice bucket. The back wall of the room was a large sliding door, which could be covered by curtains and led to a small balcony. Finally, in the right back corner of the room were a small refrigerator and a TV.

"At least there are two beds," Chelsea said hopefully.

"Hmph," was his only reply. He sprawled out on the bed and folded his arms whilst turning away from her, indicating that he had no desire to be cheered up.

"It-it won't be so bad," she continued unconvincingly. "As long as we lock the bathroom door when we go in to change there shouldn't be a problem." Vaughn looked away and said nothing. "What? You don't have pajamas?" Vaughn flushed slightly but still said nothing. Chelsea covered her eyes with her hand. "Please don't tell me you sleep in the nude."

"What?! No!" Vaughn exclaimed, jumping into a sitting position. "Boxers," he muttered.

Chelsea blinked at him as his reaction registered in her mind. A slow smile formed on her face. "I didn't take you to be the self-conscious type."

"Shut up!" he barked. He flipped over on the bed, turning away from her. "And I better not catch you looking." He heard Chelsea snort, irritating him more. He heard the glass door open and close, and decided Chelsea must have gone outside.

He lay on the bed and stared at the wall. His mind wandered into what they had discussed before, when they were on the boat. He had never told anyone about his past in so much detail. There was something… therapeutic about it. It was as if the burden of knowing had lessened, now that someone else knew. He didn't regret telling her, but he couldn't think why he had told her so much. He hadn't even told Mirabelle and Julia in so much detail.

He pondered over it until he felt hunger pains. He rolled over and got to his feet, but didn't see Chelsea in the room. He went towards the glass door and nudged the curtain aside. She was sitting on the floor next to the railing, hugging her knees and looking down at the pool area. He watched her for a few minutes, but she didn't move. Finally he slid the door open and she turned her head.

"We should get something to eat," he said. A gust of wind blew past the building and Vaughn saw her shiver just a little, though she tried to suppress it. "You should come in anyway, it's getting cold."

Chelsea stood and stretched slowly, stiff from being in one position for so long. She followed him inside and asked, "Do you want to go to the restaurant downstairs or get room service?"

Vaughn thought for a moment. "Which one is faster?"

"Probably room service," she answered, picking up the menu from the table. Vaughn joined her and looked at the menu from over her shoulder. When they each made their decision, Chelsea called it in. Chelsea had been right that the room service would be faster, because within twenty minutes they were knocking on the door. The waiter wheeled the cart into the room and placed the covered plates on the table while Chelsea filled out a receipt. With the receipt and the platinum card, the man bowed out and said he would return for the plates in half an hour.

"Have you had that card with you all this time?" he asked, trying to sound uninterested.

"No. I had the driver bring it with him when he picked us up." Then she waved her hand, "Even if I did have this when I was on the island, I wouldn't have used it."

"Why not? You could have expanded the farm by twice the size it is now." It didn't make sense to Vaughn for someone to have money and not use it.

Chelsea scowled at the suggestion. "It's not my money. It's the company's money, my parents' money. It doesn't have any value to me. I didn't do anything to earn it." She chuckled, "Why do you think so many rich kids turn into snobs? No one appreciates what they take for granted, because they see it as a guarantee, something they won't ever be without." She gave him a side long look. "I wasn't about to run away just to use my parents' money. For one thing they would have found me, and for another it wouldn't have been anything I'd earned on my own. To me it's dirty money."

Vaughn chuckled at this term. "Money is money."

"Struggle is what makes it worthwhile," Chelsea countered. She decided to change tactics. "Think of it this way: if my parents' money had paid for everything I did on the ranch, giving the ranch up would have been easy for me." Vaughn looked about to argue but Chelsea held her hand up to stop him. "It wouldn't have held any personal value to me. It would just have been one more thing my parents bought for me."

"But aren't you always complaining about how much things cost, and what you can't afford to build?" Vaughn responded.

Chelsea smiled, "You've got me there, but I can tell you that even though I was complaining I was still happier than I would have been relying on someone else. I started that ranch by scavenging the island for herbs and flowers to live on and ship, and I wouldn't have it any other way. That was my hard work, and that money was earned from my efforts. That means more to me than any platinum card or family fortune."

Vaughn let the argument drop at that point as they both focused on eating. While they did, he considered Chelsea's point of view, and how different it was from his own. He had always had to struggle for money to live on, so money meant survival. Chelsea, however, had always had a surplus of money, more than she ever truly needed, so there had never been the question of not having any. But still, she was now in the position he was, struggling for a living, constantly working the fields just to make ends meat. And somehow, this meant more to her than any cushy life she had previously had. He wondered if he would ever consider anything to be more important than money. Probably not, he decided.

The man returned for the plates and with Chelsea's card, then asked if they wanted any desert. Chelsea turned to Vaughn questioningly, but he shook his head and mumbled something about being a luxury. She heard his mumbling, so she ordered two chocolate cakes because she knew he liked them, and partially to prove a point.

When the waiter left the room Vaughn grumbled, "I don't need it. You shouldn't be buying what we don't need."

"Doesn't really feel good when someone buys everything for you, does it?" Chelsea sneered. "As I said before, this money holds no value to me. I couldn't think of enough things to buy that would max out this fortune, none of which I earned on my own. It's just a pocket that keeps filling itself."

"The company must be really successful, if what you say is true," he remarked.

"Exactly," Chelsea shrugged indifferently, "and quite frankly, I find that to be a boring existence. Imagine having this leisure time and money all day, having nothing to do but sit around and spend money."

Vaughn snorted in distaste, "I'd go stir-crazy."

Chelsea chuckled. "Maybe that's why I took to dancing while I played violin. Standing still wasn't good enough."

The deserts arrived and the two of them sat on Chelsea's bed as they watched the television in the corner. Some late night comedy show was on. Chelsea laughed often. Vaughn never let more than a chuckle escape from time to time.

When they finished and the man had cleared out all of the plates they started to prepare for bed. Chelsea rummaged through her bag for her pajamas while Vaughn went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He returned from the bathroom as Chelsea gathered up her toothbrush and pajamas in her arms. He would take this opportunity to strip and hide under the covers. Just then there was a knock on the door. Curious, she put her things back on the bed and went to the door.

Now was as good a time as any, he thought to himself and he began to strip off his clothes.

"Ah yes, I was expecting you at some point, Thank You," he heard Chelsea say. Curious as to whom she was expecting Vaughn peered from around the corner. There was a man in a business suit with a name tag. He was holding three garment bags. She took the hangers from him and placed the outfits in the closet.

"It's no problem at all Miss Chelsea…, well its Madam President now, isn't it? Despite the grim circumstances, a lot of us back at the studio are very glad that you're finally back. How long will you be staying?" The man talked a mile a minute.

Chelsea waved her hand at him and laughed. "No, no, Chelsea is just fine, Miss if you still can't help it. I'm afraid I won't be her long. We're leaving just after the funeral. I can't leave the farm for very long."

The man's expression turned to disappointment. "Only for one day? But who is going to take care of the company in your absence? How long will you be gone and when will you be coming back?"

"That has yet to be decided. It's best not to worry about it too much," she said responding to all of his questions. "I know what these two pieces are for, but what's this third outfit?" she asked curiously. She opened the zipper and pulled the nightgown out. Chelsea's face went bright red at the site of the garment. "Wha-! How…where did you find this?!"

"We heard you would be in town for the night, so the driver took the liberty of adding your old nightgown to the outfits you requested. We weren't sure if you had anything appropriate to sleep in."

"I'm living on a farm, not in a gutter! I do have a house on that island you know." As she sputtered excuses and requests for him to take it back, Vaughn took a closer look at what was on the hanger. It was a silk nightgown with thin straps, a form-fitting top that would only cover what was necessary, laced in the middle, with fabric flowing down the center and sides. The center piece of fabric, however, was see-through. He quickly ducked back around the corner and continued what he had been doing. While removing his jeans an image of Chelsea and the nightgown flashed through his mind. His leg caught and he fell face first onto the bed.

The door closed and Chelsea let out a long sigh that turned into a groan. Vaughn straightened himself and tried to act as though he hadn't seen what transpired. The garment was hanging from her arm.

"What… what is that?" he asked nervously. He couldn't decide if he was nervous or… no, definitely nervous.

"Fire wood," she said sarcastically. She sighed again and held it up for her own scrutiny. "My kingdom for a long t-shirt and shorts or sweatpants, but no, my mother insisted that I wore stuff like this."

"You're… not actually going to wear that, are you?"

Chelsea regarded him for a moment. "Of course not." Vaughn wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. "I'll return it tomorrow with the other outfits. My pajamas are just fine."

"What other outfits?" he asked.

"I had them bring me something from the studio suitable for a funeral." She hesitated for a moment before she continued. "I had them bring something for you, too."

"I don't need it," he replied immediately.

"True, you are already wearing all black. I just thought you might not want to stand out so much."

"I don't care what other people think. That's their problem."

"Okay. If you're sure," she said in a tone that stirred some doubt to his conviction.

She picked up her pajamas and toiletries, setting off for the bathroom once more. "Well, I'm glad that nightgown served some good purpose."

Confused, he inquired. "What do you mean?"

"You seem to have gotten over your own nightly apparel," she replied casually without looking in his direction. It was then Vaughn realized he had been standing there talking to her in nothing but his black boxers. So much for hiding under the covers. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about," she continued conversationally through the door. "I've seen it before."

"WHAT?!" This was definitely something he did not want to hear.

There was a pause as Chelsea finished changing and brushing her teeth. "I don't mean you, and no, it's not what you're thinking," she added, pointing her finger at him. "I'm talking about male models. I've had to attend my fair share of men's underwear modeling shows. I also spent most of my time back stage, including…," and now she seemed slightly embarrassed, "both the men and women's changing rooms. My parents agreed the sooner I was desensitized, the better."

"Desensitized to what, exactly?" Vaughn asked, slightly indignant.

Chelsea both flushed and laughed at his reaction. "To the human body. It's the clothes you're supposed to look at more than the model. As for what you were thinking… we won't go there." Vaughn couldn't help raising his eyebrows, causing Chelsea to start, "Well I haven't, so let's just nip that one in the bud."

"Ever?" he couldn't help asking.

Surprisingly, Chelsea didn't blush. Instead her features smoothed into a mask. "Depression is an interesting thing; it can numb you emotionally as well as physically. My desire to avoid my emotions overpowered any wish for human interaction. I haven't had so much as a boyfriend that I can recall."

"Really?" Vaughn found that interesting. Chelsea wouldn't have ever been in want for admirers. Robert was an excellent example of such.

"Really. I'm sure a lot of boys tried, but I never showed any interest. Besides, when you're an heiress to a rich company, it's hard to tell whether people like you for you or for your money." Her expression turned thoughtful and she pulled back her covers and fluffed her pillow. She took the garment that was still sitting at the end of her bed and held it, as if it were diseased, at arms length until she placed it in the closet.

"Do you think you ever will?" Vaughn mentally kicked himself even as it escaped his lips. Why was he asking? It wasn't any of his business.

"I'm not sure, someday probably. I'll work on liking myself first before I start looking for someone." Admittedly she thought of him when he asked and was grateful that she was still turned away from him. But she was determined to keep their friendship intact; now wasn't the time to confess feelings, especially with what was going to happen tomorrow.

"Well, I think I'm going to go to sleep. I have to wake up early enough to shower and change." She turned to him and smiled. "You don't have to wear the tux if you don't want to, just think about it." She stared at him for a moment, taking in the details she had been previously avoiding. As to be expected, he had a strong and lean build, with muscular arms and the hint of a six pack. He wasn't wearing his hat anymore, either, leaving his handsome face unhidden. She smiled wider, thinking of yet another opportunity to tease him, but decided against it and instead said, "Goodnight."

Half an hour later, Chelsea was fast asleep while Vaughn was wide awake; he was too anxious to sleep. He couldn't think why, as he'd bunked with other people, like the free inn on the island. But then he _did_ know why; all of his room mates had always been men. The last time he'd slept in the same room with a girl, he was in the same bed… his cheeks burned and he turned away to face the wall. The image of Chelsea in that nightgown flashed in his mind once again. This is why she should have argued for separate rooms, he thought bitterly to himself. Curse his overactive imagination!

He slowly turned back to face Chelsea's bed; she was facing him looking peaceful as she slept. It was then that he noticed what he hadn't before, a little plush chicken held tightly in her arms. The idea of a twenty-year-old woman sleeping with a stuffed animal made him chuckle. Then he sighed deeply; he knew he was just being ridiculous. He stared at Chelsea until his eyes began to flutter closed. His last conscious thought was Chelsea's sleeping face.

* * *

Vaughn woke up to the sound of running water. He looked over to Chelsea's bed which was now empty. As he rose from bed and stretched, he noticed a note on the nightstand. Sitting next to it was the platinum card. The note said that he could order anything he wanted from room service, and requested that he order enough for the two of them. Scanning over the menu, he picked up phone and ordered. Just as the water turned off in the bathroom, there was a knock at the door.

Chelsea waited until the hotel worker left the room before she exited the bathroom. She wrapped one of the complimentary hotel robes around her frame then stepped out into the open area. Vaughn was sitting at the table, still wearing only his boxers. He turned and nodded, "Good morning."

"Good morning. You're not changing?" she asked. She sat down opposite him to where her food had been placed.

"I was waiting for you, think I'll shower first," he replied evenly.

"Good idea, you should milk it while you can. I doubt the boat or the inn have very private facilities," she teased. Vaughn hmphed and said nothing.

Chelsea turned on the TV to watch the news. Chelsea finished quickly and went to the mirror that was in the main room and began working on her hair. Room service returned to collect the empty plates, at which point Vaughn went into the shower. Chelsea turned her head to make sure that he was in fact out of the room before pulling the dress out of its protective fabric case. Not sure how long Vaughn would take in the shower she put it on quickly, then returned to working on her hair. He had still not emerged from the shower by the time she was finished getting ready.

She tapped on the door and shouted, "I'm going to go check us out. I'll be back in a few minutes." She heard a noise from inside the bathroom, which she took as an affirmative, and left. A few moments after she left, Vaughn finished showering. He brusquely dried himself off and went into the main room.

He went to his bag and began pulling out his clothes. Then he stopped. He looked towards his hat in the closet, then to the hanging bag that contained the suit. He remembered the last time he was in the city, and how much attention he had drawn just walking down the street. Now he was going to be amid Chelsea's family and friends; rich, snooty people who had nothing better to do than judge others. He didn't like the idea of giving them the satisfaction. With a grumble he returned his regular clothing to his bag and went for the suit.

* * *

Chelsea opened the room door just as Vaughn was finishing. She smiled fondly at him as he straightened the jacket and began working with the tie. It was only when she stepped up to help him that he noticed her return.

"I see you decided to go with the suit," she commented.

"I don't like standing out," he replied with a slight blush as she worked with his tie. Chelsea was wearing a beautiful black long sleeve dress that formed around her curves and hung as far as her ankles. The buckles on her high heels matched the one around her waist.

"Well I'm glad you did. To tell the truth, you look rather dashing," she added with an embarrassed smile. She adjusted the knot and cinched it up to his neck. She gave him a playful pat on the cheek then went to pack the rest of her things. "If you're all packed up, the car is downstairs waiting for us."

Vaughn went over to the closet and pointed to the only hanger with a garment on it. "Aren't you going to pack this?"

Chelsea looked up to see him pointing to the nightgown and balked. She shook her head furiously, "N-no way. Everything I'm packing is going back to Sunny Island with me. That thing is staying here. I'll pick it up on the way out."

She finished packing and they walked out of the room. With a sweeping motion Chelsea grabbed the garment bags from the closet and closed the door behind her. She turned the key into the front desk, and they went outside to where a black car was waiting for them.

"What, no limo?" Vaughn teased.

Chelsea smiled humorlessly at him, "No, I convinced them that a limo would not be necessary. We'll be taking this car for the rest of the day."

The driver stepped out and opened the door for Chelsea. Ignoring Vaughn's chuckle she accepted the gesture and entered the car. Vaughn rounded the car and opened his own door before the driver could offer. Meanwhile a bellhop filled the back of the car with their luggage. He closed the trunk, waved to the driver, and they were off towards the funeral.

"We have one more stop to make after the funeral before going to the docks," Chelsea explained. She indicated her dress and said, "We're stopping by _Rougue Studios_ to change out of these clothes and leave them there."

"Not that I need the suit weighing me down, but isn't it wasteful to throw these away after one use?" Vaughn asked.

"They won't be thrown away. They're from the upcoming line that will be shown next season. If anything it would be wasteful to keep them." She looked out her window and added quietly, "I'll never wear this dress again, not after today." Vaughn didn't press further.

They reached the cemetery where the funeral was to take place. It was a much grander place than would be expected of a burial site, and Vaughn came to the conclusion that this must be a private cemetery that only the very rich could afford. What a way to spend an inheritance, he thought wryly to himself.

The car drove through the gates and up to the main building. There it stopped as the driver left his seat to open the door for his passengers. Chelsea kept her head down and walked to where the ceremony would take place, her eyes filled with sadness. Vaughn walked silently by her side keeping an eye out for her mother.

They reached the large crowd of people who had gathered to say their final farewells to Franklin Rougue. It looked more like a party than a funeral to Vaughn, with every two or three people gathered in their own circle of gossip. The moment someone noticed Chelsea and engaged her in conversation her eyes became expressionless. She answered all inquiries politely though not in as many words and was on her way as quickly as she was able.

As they moved through the crowd Vaughn heard familiar whispers amongst the gossiping groups. What was surprising about them was that they were not aimed at him, but at Chelsea: "Look at her; even at her father's funeral she doesn't shed a tear," "Typical Chelsea, emotionless as ever," "Here comes the spoiled brat thinking herself so above her company," "Who is that with her? He's gorgeous! How could Chelsea land a guy like him?" "She probably tricked him into it; I'll be he doesn't even know what she's really like," "Oh my god, have you heard? Apparently she's living on some farm, I'm surprised she doesn't look all dirty," "Maybe they sent her there to make her more human," "I heard it was some kind of crash, and wouldn't you know she didn't even tell them she was alive!" "Oh, poor Clarice, to have a daughter like that," "Poor Franklin too, it was the death of him," "If Chelsea starts crying during the funeral I will seriously not even believe it," "I'm surprised she even showed up."

Behind a veil of serene indifference Vaughn gritted his teeth. Though he didn't know Chelsea's father himself, he couldn't believe the disrespect these people were displaying. These people who were supposedly close friends to the family, who had known Chelsea all of her life, who didn't know her at all. It was no wonder she was worried about coming.

"Just ignore them," Chelsea said, noticing that he had tensed up. "Complaining about others is how they avoid fixing their own character flaws." She struggled to keep from smiling at her own remark; it would only make the gossip worse. "We'll be standing directly in front, if you don't mind." Vaughn shook his head. She was still unused to seeing him without his hat; he almost seemed like a stranger.

This would be a standing funeral, as opposed to people having sits to relax in and gossip at leisure. It was less a matter of money and more to keep the crowd close enough to be shushed if necessary. Chelsea took a place of honor up front with Vaughn right beside her. Clarice was on the opposite side of the casket to better glare at her daughter, but Chelsea only had eyes for where her father lay in permanent sleep.

The top half of the casket was opened to reveal its peaceful resident, and the priest began his prayers to the Goddess.

The crowd fell silent as they listened to the narration of Franklin's life and struggles.

Employees, both by invitation and personal choice, bowed their heads in respectful reverence.

Chelsea, looking upon her father for the last time, allowed her tears to fall in silence. Vaughn wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close.

A girl with long dark hair watched Chelsea sadly, while Clarice glared through eyes that burned with fiery tears.

Another individual observed from a distance.

And into the earth Franklin was lain.

* * *

Vaughn touched Chelsea's shoulder lightly, "Ready to go?"

Chelsea looked around slowly, as if seeing through a veil; was it over already? Was it a feeling of numbness, or a moment frozen in time, Chelsea couldn't tell. She felt someone shake her gently, and remembered that Vaughn was still beside her with his arm about her shoulders. She looked up at him. "Thank you for coming." He nodded in response, and she allowed him to lead her away from the grave.

"And where do you think you are going?" growled a familiar voice. They turned to see Clarice standing behind them, her eyes boring into Chelsea's with pure hatred. She motioned sharply with her hand, "Leave your escort here; I need to speak with you alone."

Vaughn planted his feet firmly beside Chelsea, showing her that he had no intention of leaving. The fact she couldn't intimidate this man only increased her dislike of him. "Fine, stand there if you must but remain silent. This conversation does not involve you, and you would do well to remember that." He responded to this statement with an almost inaudible growl.

Chelsea touched his shoulder to calm him then regarded her mother with impassiveness. This was as much of an invitation to speak as her mother was going to receive. Clarice took a deep breath to calm herself, smoothing her features into a calmer countenance. And then she began.

"Chelsea, this nonsense has gone on long enough. When we discovered that you were alive and living on that island doing _farm work_ of all things, we were kind enough to let you return to it in hopes that you would get it out of your system, but this silly indulgence will be endured no longer. What started out as a minor irritation has become an outright embarrassment; you have made us the laughing stock amongst the higher circles. No doubt you heard the whispers amongst our friends today; even for your father's funeral you manage to steal the spotlight. Tell me was this what you set out to do when you got onto that boat a year ago? I realize that you never favored the idea of the company, but to purposefully run it into the ground through such ridiculous stunts? It is beyond cruel. No longer, my daughter; you are coming home today. You have done wrong by me and by your father for all of your life and that stops today. You are returning home with me, you will begin your responsibilities tomorrow or so help me your father will be rolling in his grave before he has hardly lain in it. As for that disgusting farm you play on, leave it in someone else's care. No doubt they are more suited for it than you are." She looked at Vaughn in the last statement.

Chelsea's shoulders shook violently as she endured her mother's harsh criticisms. At first she has listened with practiced indifference, but when her father was brought up Chelsea was back to the fears she had felt before coming. If it was truly her father's dying wish that she take the company, how could she deny him? Chelsea closed her eyes as guilt began to gnaw away at her resolve.

Clarice smiled darkly as she watched her daughter's reaction; she had won. She folded her arms behind her in triumph, "Now, we have much to prepare for tomorrow. I have a car waiting for us over—."

"That's enough!" The shout startled Clarice. She looked at the silver-haired man with wide eyes. He returned her gaze with such a ferocious glare that she almost flinched… almost.

Vaughn could not contain his anger any longer. The speech was outrageous enough, but when Clarice signaled Chelsea to leave with her, he could feel her begin to follow, and that was the last straw. It was as if she were being pulled by some force he could not see.

"Are you finished?" he barked coldly. Clarice was too startled to respond. Vaughn leaned down and whispered into Chelsea's ear, "We're leaving." And with that he led her away from her mother.

It seemed that the further away Chelsea moved from her mother, the calmer she became. The tears stopped flowing, her breathing slowed, and rather than looking down at her feet she once again looked forward. When he felt they were a good distance away from her mother, he stopped in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"I'm alright," she responded. Something behind him caught her gaze, and for the first time since they arrived, she smiled.

A tall young woman with long black hair walked towards them. With a small nod to Vaughn she brought Chelsea into a heartfelt embrace. They held each other for a few moments, happy to be reunited. At length Chelsea let go and turned her friend towards Vaughn. "Vaughn, this is the friend I told you about a few weeks ago. May, this is Vaughn. He lives on the island with me."

The woman raised an eyebrow at this, but made no comment towards the double meaning and instead smiled sincerely at Vaughn. "It is nice to see that Chelsea has made friends." She looked in the direction they had just come from, "A friend that takes good care of her."

"You saw that?" Chelsea asked in trepidation.

May nodded. "I've been keeping an eye on you since you arrived. I was worried Clarice might try something like this. I was about to step in, but your friend beat me to it. Thank you," she added to Vaughn with a soft smile.

"I…," Chelsea hesitated, "I'm sorry I never told you that I was okay. I—."

"Its okay, Chelsea, I know." May responded. "I won't pretend that it wasn't very hard. It was like losing my parents all over again. You know I you're like a sister to me, Chels." Vaughn looked at May with renewed interest; up till now he couldn't place whom Chelsea had meant.

"Of course, now that you're alive and well," May continued, "you have to send me an invitation so I can come visit you. It's been years since I've been to a farm, I sort miss it." Chelsea smiled at her old friend. Before living with her aunt, she had lived with her grandfather on his ranch. Her mother had left her in his care before joining her husband on the vacation; May said her mother had promised to return soon to reconnect with her father after so many years apart. She never came back.

"I promise to send you an invitation and a boat ticket," Chelsea agreed. "I think you'll really like it there. All of the townspeople are very nice."

"Well that's certainly a change of pace, isn't it?" May said wryly. Her expression turned serious, "Listen, there's something else. I overheard your mother talking with her employees. By now she's switched the driver of your car with someone who will take you straight to the mansion. I don't think she had planned on someone being with you, but no doubt they have some plan for separating you."

"That woman stops at nothing," Vaughn growled while Chelsea let out an exasperated sigh.

"So what now?" she asked.

May smiled. "You're mother isn't the only one who knows how to make plans." She motioned for someone in the distance to come forward. From out of the crowd came a man Chelsea recognized instantly; it was her father's favorite assistant."

"Mathew, you came!" Chelsea cried, giving him a quick hug.

He straightened himself awkwardly then smiled. "Hello, Chelsea. It is good to see you again."

"Thank you for sending the letter, as well as the package."

"You are most welcome. I was always happy to be of service to your father, and now to you." He pulled out a business card from his pocket and handed it to her. "If you will, I would like you to think of me as your personal assistant. Give me a call whenever you need something." Franklin had been right, Mathew thought to himself; Chelsea seemed much happier than he had ever seen her. Something in her air had changed. "Which reminds me, did you know what he meant by the gift he requested me to send you?"

"I'm afraid I don't," she answered sadly.

"Well, do not worry. I know you'll figure it out eventually." He then turned to May. "Are we all set?"

"Almost," she replied. May looked from Vaughn to Chelsea, "First of all, you'll have to take a different car from the one you came in if you're going to leave without detection."

"I have already moved all of your luggage into the car we will be taking," Mathew interjected.

"Right, Mathew will be taking you to the docks instead."

"But we need to take these clothes back to the studio," Chelsea protested.

May thought about this for a moment. She shook her head, "There won't be time for that if you want to leave without another confrontation with your mother. You can always send them back later if you must, but for now the best move is to make it to the earliest ship you can get on and Chelsea… make sure this one doesn't crash." Chelsea laughed at her friend, but nodded in understanding. May hugged her one more time before she shooed them off. "I'll see you soon," she whispered. "Now go. I'll make sure Clarice doesn't see what car you get into, even if it means talking to her."

With no further ado Chelsea and Vaughn slipped into the crowd following Mathew while May walked in the opposite direction. Mathew walked them in several directions before slipping behind the cemetery's large building. Sure that no one was following them he walked them towards a green minivan. Mathew sat in front while he instructed his passengers to sit in the far back where they would be surrounded by the tinted windows. Chelsea ran to the back, opened the trunk and pulled something out of her suitcase before getting into place. With everyone in the car, Mathew started the car and drove off.

"We'll be going in the opposite direction of the docks first, until I'm certain that no one is following us," he explained. "Once I'm sure, I'll be taking a less well known route."

"Thank you, Mathew, for everything," Chelsea said. He smiled at her through the rear view mirror.

She then turned to Vaughn, "I was afraid it might get bent in your shoulder bag, so I repacked it in my suitcase." Chelsea gave Vaughn what she had searched her luggage for. He eagerly grabbed it from her and smashed it onto his head, pulling it as far forward as it would go.

"Thanks," was his only reply.

Chelsea imagined that he was irritated for a lot of different reasons from today's events, so she remained silent and let him have his peace. She listened to the sounds of the road as Mathew made absolutely certain that no one would follow them to the docks. Her mother was turning downright mafia with this stunt. A groan brought her attention back to Vaughn.

"I'm really going to get it from the crew coming on board like this," he grumbled.

She chuckled a little at his train of thought. "I'm sorry for all of this, I really am," she replied sincerely. "I knew she would try something, but this…."

"It's alright, I know it's not your fault." He looked down at his suit, then back at her. "Chelsea, I hate your mom."

Chelsea laughed, "We'll find you a place to change as soon as we get to the docks." She then looked down at what she was wearing, "Hopefully for me, too."

Again Vaughn gave her a once over before turning away. "It doesn't look that bad."

"Gee, thanks," she replied. "You don't look so bad yourself. The hat really matches the suit," she added, tapping the brim as she spoke. He batted her hand away which made her laugh.

From the rear view mirror Mathew watched discreetly. He was happy and amazed to see Chelsea interact with someone as openly as she was now. He smiled to himself, and inwardly he hoped that Chelsea _would_ give the company up. Though the official last will stated that Franklin's last wish was for Chelsea to be his successor, he also believed that Franklin had always wished for Chelsea's happiness. He knew Chelsea would make the right choice in time; it was Clarice he was worried about. But what could be done? Sadly, he knew this was far from over.

Mathew brought them to the docks, wished them a safe journey, and with one final awkward hug from Chelsea, he was off. The ferry to Sunny Island was leaving almost that moment, so unfortunately Vaughn did not have enough time to change. True to his fears the sailing crew gave him unnecessary compliments on his suit. Vaughn stormed off to the crew's quarters while Chelsea finished bringing their luggage on board. When she struggled a little, still unused to the dress as she was, the crew was quick to assist her.

No sooner was everything on board that the ship set sail for Sunny Island; they would arrive very late that night. Just in time for the Thanksgiving Festival the captain had said.

"Think you'll be getting any cookies this year little miss?" He asked cheerfully.

Chelsea glanced backwards then smiled back at the captain. "Oh, I don't think so." She gave him a friendly wave before making her way to the crew's quarters. She knocked on the door a few times. "Vaughn?" she asked uncertainly.

"In here," answered a muffled voice.

Chelsea opened the door just as he was fastening the belt of his pants; the under shirt of the tuxedo was cast aside on one crewman bed while his black shirt still laid on another. Chelsea smiled, closed her eyes and respectfully turned around to give him privacy. Vaughn looked up at her as he picked up his black shirt.

"It's fine," he said in response to her action.

She turned around again as he shrugged his shirt on, pulling his hands through the sleeves and fastening the buttons. Chelsea went to his shoulder bag and pulled out his vest and bandana, handing each to him in turn.

"Thanks."

"No problem," she smiled. "Sorry the crew gave you a hard time."

"Well, whatever." He took a look around the room to see if there was any other entrance. When he didn't find one he asked, "Do you want to change, too?"

Chelsea nodded, "Actually I do. I feel a little silly wearing this on the ship."

"Okay, wait here and I'll get your bag." He found her bags still on deck and brought the larger of the two back. He handed it to her then stood guard of the door while she changed inside.

Chelsea stretched and sighed happily. "It's good to be back in normal clothes," she said aloud. Vaughn knocked on the door to which she gave him permission to enter. He smirked when he saw her.

"You seem happy," he replied.

"Mm, for many reasons: happy to be out of the city, on my way home, and in comfortable clothes again."

"You look much more like you," he agreed.

She looked at him seriously, "I know I've said it a lot of times, but I want to thank you again for coming. I think I would have gone with her if not for you."

"You almost did," he returned stiffly. He leaned forward bringing his face close to hers. "Don't scare me like that again." He turned to his belongings and began placing things back in his bag. He looked over his shoulder at the suit he had borrowed. Reaching over he picked up the pieces and tossed them towards and unsuspecting Chelsea. "Take care of that. I don't have room for it."

"No, I suppose not," she responded. "I'll put it with the dress and send them back when I get the chance. Of course, I could always store it in my house in case you want to use it again." A flat look from Vaughn answered her question. "Kidding, kidding."

A loud wail brought his attention sharply to her. She was holding a black garment bag up in front of her. "What's wrong?"

She gave him a pained look and pulled the garment out of the bag. It was the silk nightgown.

* * *

Clarice watched the receding figure of her rebellious daughter and that infuriating man as someone approached from behind. "I thought you said they weren't that close."

"They weren't," Robert replied darkly. He scowled at Vaughn's retreating figure.

"In other words, that man poses more of a problem than we first calculated?" she asked coolly.

"Perhaps not, there may be something we can do about him. However, it will be more difficult to make her leave the island once she is on it."

"It will not be that difficult. If her life on the island becomes too difficult for her to manage, she will be forced to make a choice. I will give her more company work than she will be able to manage on her own. All that is then required is for her to make the right choice. But how to influence her towards it?" she mused aloud.

Robert reflected quietly on her words. What Clarice said was true, and there was just one more push Chelsea would need. "There is no greater motivation for a change of scene than a broken heart."

"What does that mean?" Clarice asked irritably.

He looked up at her calmly. "There new found relationship may come to our advantage. I have another useful piece of information."

"Well?"

"Another woman on that island whom also has deep feelings for that man," he replied.

"How is that of any use to me?" she demanded.

"Because she is the daughter of Regis, owner of the mining company that supplies the gems we use for accessories and designs."

Her mood changed instantly, "That _is_ interesting."

Robert smiled, "I'm sure we will be able to come to some sort of arrangement with him."

Clarice's smile matched Robert's as his plan dawned on her. "Indeed. After all, making his daughter happy is of great importance to him. Surely we shall all get what we desire."

* * *

It was after midnight when the ferry finally reached the island. Chelsea and Vaughn stepped off of the boat tiredly. Chelsea stifled a yawn, repositioned her bags in a more comfortable grip and made her way home. Home, she smiled to herself. She never wanted to leave again. She hardly noticed Vaughn walking beside her. When she did they were already off of the beach and something dawned on her.

"Where will you be staying tonight?"

"Mirabelle said she would set up a cot for me. I told her we would be getting back late."

"I see." Well, she thought, at least this meant she wouldn't have to offer him the extra bed she had. Something told her that would be beyond awkward for him; it was not like staying in a hotel far away from people he knew. They had now reached the crossroads.

"Need me to walk you home?" he asked.

"No no, that's okay. It's late. I don't want to keep you up any later. You're 'escort' as my mother put it, is officially over." She smiled playfully at him, "I'll repay you somehow, when you least expect it. Until then, goodnight Vaughn." She waved one last time before heading up the road again.

He took the right and walked towards Mirabelle's, letting out a great yawn. Tomorrow was going to be a sleepy day. He entered quietly and found the cot Mirabelle had promised him. Only taking off his vest and his hat, he fell asleep almost as soon as he lay down.


	22. Spring Thanksgiving

Julia woke to the sound of clanging metal. She rubbed her bleary eyes to ease the sting of light coming from the kitchen. Pulling her legs over the side of her bed, she stared at the back of the silver-haired man stirring eggs in a bowl with a whisk. She left for the bathroom to change and get ready for the day. He was still there upon her return, stirring furiously. Standing behind him to watch, she scanned the ingredients before him, recognizing them at once.

"You're baking?" she asked, unsure of what she was witnessing.

"It's Spring Thanksgiving, isn't it?" he replied without pausing.

Slowly a grin spread on Julia's lips until it was ear-to-ear. "So, Vaughn, who's the lucky girl?"

"Go away."

"Aww, it's Chelsea, isn't it?"

"I said go away. I'm busy right now."

"I promise not to tell anyone, just say it out loud, please?" she begged.

"Mirabelle," Vaughn called over his shoulder.

Mirabelle, who had been expecting this from her daughter, called from the front counter of the store. "Julia, leave him be. You can come and help me in here."

With a sound of disappointment Julia did as she was told. Poking her head around the corner before leaving she called back, "Let me know if you need any help. I mean, I've never seen you bake before, and if you don't know how—."

"Shut up, Julia!" Vaughn snapped. Julia giggled and scampered away. With an irritated grumble Vaughn returned to his task.

Chelsea stared into her own bloodshot eyes. It had hardly been a week and a half since she purchased the restroom and bath, and never before had she been so grateful. With only a few hours of sleep, and well before Mark would arrive, Chelsea filled the bath and took a nice long soak. Half an hour later she emerged, taking another ten minutes to dress and prepare for the day. She was drying her hair when Mark walked through the front door.

Mark opened the door and went for the table, beginning his routing of the last few days. Something orange caught his eye. He looked up to see Chelsea drying her hair in a towel and smiling at him.

"Good morning, Mark," she said kindly.

Mark brightened and, smiling like a boy on Christmas day, ran up to give her a fierce hug. "You're back, you're back! I'm so glad to see you! How was your trip? Did everything go okay? I'm sorry I didn't knock before coming in, I didn't realize you were back already."

Laughing at his enthusiasm she released herself from the hug. It warmed her heart to be welcomed back so cheerfully. She had returned to the island only a few short moments ago, yet the air was much less oppressive. It was nice to be back to where she could be herself without criticism just around the corner.

"To answer a few of your questions, the trip went as well as to be expected, I reconnected with _two_ decent people, and I am very happy to be home, but truly I am much more interested in what you have to say. How has the farm been doing?" And so Mark told her the status of the crops and the animals while Chelsea finished drying her hair. When he was finished Chelsea checked her watch to see that it was now 7am. They got up from the table and went out the door. They were heading in the direction of the fields when someone clearing his throat made them turn.

Vaughn stood there looking slightly embarrassed, his arm behind his back. "Can I talk to you for a minute inside?" he asked Chelsea.

"Sure," she replied, nodding to Mark to go on ahead.

She let Vaughn precede her into the house, closing the door behind her. Vaughn cleared his throat again and pulled his arm from behind him to reveal a plate of freshly baked cookies. "Today's the Thanksgiving Festival, so I thought I'd drop by," he said in his usual serious tone. Then with a more embarrassed look he added, "Thanks for the chocolate. It was… nice." He pushed the plate into her hands and hurried out the door before she could thank him.

Chelsea stood there for a few moments, perplexed at what had just happened. Despite herself, she blushed and smiled as she looked down at the cookies; she hadn't expected to get anything from Vaughn. Putting the plate on the table she chose a cookie and took a bite. It was a chocolate chip cookie, still warm and soft as the chips melted in her mouth. Putting several into a plastic bag, she put the rest in the oven to keep them warm. Upon second thought she took them all, popping them into her mouth as she went to join Mark in the fields.

"What was that all about? Did he need something?" Mark asked as she approached. Silently she handed him a cookie. "Oh, right, Thanksgiving. No wonder he looked so flustered." Mark took a bite of his cookie. Chewing reverently he swallowed and shoved the rest of it into his mouth. "This is really good! Did he bake these himself?"

"He must have, they're still warm," she responded as she began to water the cucumbers.

"Yeah, but Julia could have made them."

"True, but I didn't think he would have been quite so flustered."

"Well, if he did make them I'll certainly be surprised," Mark concluded.

"I wouldn't be." Chelsea thought about how best to explain without revealing Vaughn's past. "He's the type of person who likes to be self sufficient. I'm sure he tries to learn as much as he can in order to avoid getting help from others. Or worse, to have to pay them for it," she laughed.

"You've got a point there," Mark agreed.

With that they concentrated on the farm work, first with the crops, and then with the animals, all the while Mark giving her detailed descriptions on their status. They managed to finish everything quickly as the animals were inside the barn. They went into the house to wash their hands as Denny arrived with cookies for Chelsea. Denny waved to Mark, Chelsea thanked him for the cookies, and he was off.

"How many guys did you give chocolate to?" Mark asked.

Chelsea smiled and laughed nervously. "All of them, actually. To tell the truth, I gave everybody a little something on that day. Guys, girls, adults… well, older adults, everybody. I'm just really happy here and I wanted to thank everyone; I'm very grateful."

Mark smiled warmly at his friend. A thought occurred to him and he laughed. "You're going to be swimming in cookies."

"I will be if everyone I thanked comes here with cookies," she sighed. "I'd better stay home all day to be sure I don't miss anyone. Here's your payment for the last few days. Thanks again for covering. Good luck in the mines," she said, handing him the money.

"Oh, I don't think I'll be going today. I have some errands to run," he replied.

"Okay then, see you later."

"See ya."

She went to the stable to say hello to Argan and Spark; both of them were very happy to see her. Argan danced in place, eager to get out and run, while Spark jumped around Chelsea's heels. She took Argan for a quick ride around the ranch to both for the exercise and the quality time. She let him run about on his own as she led Spark back into the house. She took her violin out of its case and decided to dedicate the day to practice.

Throughout the day she had many visitors. Many of the older villagers, such as Mirabelle, Felicia, and Taro, came by to welcome her back home. Thankfully only the bachelors brought cookies for her, all of which were sugar cookies.

As it turned out they were all made by Pierre, who managed to make a bit of extra cash by baking cookies for the other bachelors. His best customer by far was Robert, who came to Chelsea's door with five boxes worth. Once he left, which wasn't for awhile, Chelsea made extra cash by shipping his.

Even the girls came by as a group, bringing with them a cake baked by Julia. They left shortly after, wanting to be at home for their own Spring Thanksgiving gifts.

The sun began to set as another knock sounded at the door. Fearing it was Robert again, as she had already been visited by all of her close friends, she sighed and walked towards the door with trepidation. To her pleasant surprise it was Mark, holding yet another plate of cookies.

"You didn't think I forgot did you?" he said. He put his hand behind his head and blushed. "I'm sure you already have a lot of these, so I thought I could at least help you with these."

"Sure, I'd be glad for the company. I could use the break, too." She went to the table to put her violin back in its case. Mark roamed the kitchen, looking over the many plates of cookies and the large chocolate cake.

"You sure are popular," he commented.

"With boys and girls," she replies playfully. He raised his eyebrows at the innuendo, but she merely waved her hand to indicate she was joking.

Chelsea poured some milk and together they ate his Pierre-baked cookies while Mark recounted his cookie delivery to Sabrina.

"She was so cute, she blushed and everything. Well, I did too actually. She said she was really surprised, but happy at the same time. She kept thanking me, it was really cute."

"If you were any more in love, you would be completely blind. Want me to buy you a white cane?" Chelsea teased.

"Sorry," he answered, "I just can't help it. You're really the only one I can talk to about this."

Chelsea giggled at his reaction. "I was only teasing. I don't mind. Anyway, it's a bit backwards, but we should probably eat dinner; it's almost that time."

"Okay, want to head to the diner?"

"Yes, that sounds great," Chelsea agreed fervently. "I've really missed his cooking, now that I think on it."

They made their way to the diner as Chelsea described her trip to the city, leaving out of the details that might embarrass Vaughn. Entering the diner they found the girls sitting together at a table discussing their cookie turnouts of the day. As Mark and Chelsea neared the table, Julia pounced on her.

"How were the cookies Vaughn gave you? He gave them to you, right? Did they turn out okay?" One after another the questions flowed.

"Vaughn really did make those?" Mark asked incredulously.

Chelsea silenced them both. "Yes, Vaughn gave me cookies this morning, and they were delicious." From the corner of her eye she spotted Sabrina looking sad. Chelsea waved her hands and added, "He was probably just paying me back for the expenses on the trip. You know how Vaughn hates being in debt."

"Hmm, true," Julia conceded. "By the way, how was your trip?" And thus the conversation was shifted, as Chelsea relayed the story again, guarding even more details in Sabrina's presence. In truth Chelsea still felt confused about Sabrina. She was a sweet girl; that was true enough. But though it wasn't well known how Mark felt for Sabrina, it was no secret that Sabrina admired Vaughn. Chelsea decided that this was no reason not to like Sabrina. She was a sweet girl and that was that. Besides, Chelsea reasoned to herself, Vaughn was a very good friend and that's as far as it went.

Food came for Mark and Chelsea so the conversation switched back to the Spring Thanksgiving treats while the two listened. Apparently Pierre made a special batch unlike the others to give to Natalie. Denny first gave a fish to Lanna as a joke before giving her the cookies. To Chelsea's surprise Sabrina did in fact blush during her telling of Mark's gift. Well, Chelsea mused, Mark's feelings weren't a secret now. Finally, with some scoffing from Natalie, Julia recounted Elliot's determined but shy delivery of cookies to her door.

"By then of course Vaughn had boarded the ship, so we were all alone," she finished.

"Vaughn was already gone?" Sabrina asked sadly.

"Yeah, said he needed to make up the lost time from work," Julia answered.

"Cowboy's always on the move," Natalie commented.

"That's so rude!" Lanna protested. "He could have at least dropped off some cookies for Sabrina. You gave him chocolate didn't you?"

"Well I… meant to but I sort of chickened out," Sabrina confessed. Lanna let out an exasperated sigh.

Chelsea suddenly pounded her fist on the table, "Shoot. I forgot to pay him."

"Pay him?" the entire table asked.

"Yeah, because he lost two days of paying work, we agreed that I would reimburse him. I tried to go for two days but he wouldn't take it, so I had to settle at only paying him for one."

Julia's jaw hung from its hinges. "Wait… you mean Vaughn actually turned _money_ down?!"

"Weird I know. I'll bet he skipped out of here before I could remember."

"I can't imagine Vaughn skipping anywhere," Mark added. A few people chuckled.

"Well, whatever the reason, he's going to be very irritated when he gets back," Julia giggled.

"Why's that?" Chelsea asked.

"He forgot his hat."


	23. Sheep Festival

A few days had past since Spring Thanksgiving and it was now the day of the Sheep Festival. Chelsea's was still only a lamb, so she would have to wait until next year, but she was happy to go and watch. Because it was an animal festival, Vaughn was sure to be there. Chelsea giggled to herself and wondered if he would still be in a foul mood. After leaving his hat behind and being without it for two days, almost to counteract the loss of his security blanket he had spend Wednesday and Thursday completely tucked under it, huddled in a corner with his arms crossed in sullen temper.

Chelsea sighed and stretched her arms. It was amazing to think that this time last year the bridge to the festival grounds hadn't even been built yet. Now they were connected to all of the surrounding islands and thriving as a community. Her farm had gone from a few abandoned buildings to a respectable ranch. Mark had the day off so Chelsea worked to get her chores done alone as quickly as possible. She tended each chicken, each cow and her little lamb with care. Once they were all outside and perfectly settled she hit the road.

Coming to the crossroad she saw Natalie and Elliot leaving, their mother and grandfather already at the festival, and joined them. Talking excitedly with the siblings Chelsea didn't notice the shady figures heading towards her property.

Clarice wrinkled her nose in distaste; she never liked how farms smelled. How her daughter could stand to live in such a dump she could not understand. Her assistants followed discretely behind her as she walked the premises, from the dirty fields to the grungy sheds. A dog ran up to them barking incessantly, until one of her assistance scooped it up and placed it in the building with the yellow roof. Clarice carried on as if no disturbance had occurred. She looked into the pasture at the cows and solitary sheep. Even from that distance the smell was unbearable and she soon moved on to where the poultry was fenced.

There in a smaller coral also made of stone material were four white chickens pecking the ground for insects. One chicken walked over to where the three strangers were standing. It looked up at them curiously, then decided they were not interesting and pecked the ground.

Clarice bent over and, with a small squawk of protest, lifted the chicken from the ground holding it at arms length. For a moment they just stared at each other.

Why was raising these ugly creatures more desirable than running the company, Clarice asked herself. "Disgusting creatures," she said aloud. It wasn't as if these chickens were making her any real money, not even as meat. That much was evident from how dirty the whole place looked. The chicken looked at her with increasing intensity and decided it did not like being held this way. She let out an angry squawk and began pecking at Clarice's fingers.

Clarice shrieked and threw the chicken into the air, waving her hands in front of her face frantically. Once she was sure the chicken was no longer attacking her she cleared her throat and set her clothes right. With a quick about turn she stomped off of the property towards the festival taking place. The chicken continued her search for worms outside of the protective pen.

Chelsea found Vaughn with Mark, Julia, and Sabrina who was talking excitedly to him, asking him who he thought would win. Vaughn made no comment and instead noticed the new arrivals walking towards them. He tipped his hat in greeting to them.

"Hey Vaughn," Chelsea waved with a smile.

"Hello Vaughn," Elliot said politely.

"Hey, Cowboy," Natalie said half heartedly, searching the crowd for Pierre.

Vaughn equally ignored her and replied to Chelsea, "You aren't competing today?"

Chelsea brushed it off, "You know she isn't old enough yet. I'm excited to see who else is competing though."

He gestured with his thumb, "As usual there's a competitor from Mineral Town."

"I hope they win," she smiled. "Whenever I can't compete that's the town I root for."

"They're the only consistent competitors we see around here," Mark agreed.

The group continued to debate who might win the festival this year when a commotion began to stir in another part of the field. They went over to see what the trouble was, Chelsea in the lead, when she heard what could only be Regis' voice.

"I cannot believe _the_ head of _Rougue Studios_ came to one of this village's humble festivals," he lavished. In the center of the crowd stood he and Chelsea's mother, Clarice, clearly pleased by his attentions. "This island does not have much, indeed it does not, but some of the finest jewels can be discovered in the mines."

Clarice smiled in the same superior way he did. "Yes I quite agree. I had heard that you had taken up residence on this island, and as our companies do business together I decided to drop by and greet you myself." Her smile disappeared as she looked past him to see a horrified Chelsea. Clarice sneered, "Well, well, well, look who else has decided to grace us with her presence?" Every onlooker from the crowd followed her gaze.

"What are you doing here?" Chelsea said almost inaudibly.

"Why, didn't I make that plain? I came to visit Regis and his lovely daughter." She stepped forward until she was before Chelsea. "Although I must admit I was curious as to the attraction this little island presented to you. It's a shame you never sent me an invitation to come visit. It was sad enough you didn't even bother to tell us you had survived the storm! We were so very distraught!"

"You wouldn't have wanted to come," Chelsea growled.

Clarice feigned astonishment, "How can you be so cruel, Chelsea? I had hoped that perhaps the fresh air would have perhaps tamed your tongue, but you seem worse than when you were at home with your father and me." She patted Chelsea on the arm, "Though I understand his passing is still very recent and may be the cause of your venom. I shall leave you in peace. Regis, would you be so kind as to show me around?"

Regis glided to her side and led her away, oblivious to what had just occurred. As the crowd began to disperse, some of them giving Chelsea accusing looks, Clarice looked over her shoulder and smiled darkly. Sabrina trailed after her father uncertainly.

"Well isn't she charming?" Mark said sarcastically.

"And it was turning out to be such a good day," Chelsea sighed.

"Home wrecker," Vaughn grumbled.

Julia came up next to Chelsea. "Was that your mother?" she asked. Chelsea hummed in reply. "Well… she did seem upset that you never invited her here," she stated uncomfortably.

"Those words were meant more for the crowd than for me." Chelsea looked down thoughtfully. "She's up to something… if only I could figure out what."

"Well try not to worry about it now," Julia reassured her. "My mother said the festival is about to start, and so long as you don't stand near her during the judging you won't have to interact with her at all. Who knows," she mused, "now that she's lost her husband, maybe she's changed."

"People don't change that much, Julia," Chelsea replied. Vaughn nodded solemnly.

Just then Denny popped up with Lanna at his side. "Hey, who's the dragon lady?" he asked, gesturing in the Clarice's direction. "I bumped into her by accident and she flipped out like a bat out of hell."

As if on cue Robert burst from the crowd, wearing a flamboyant blue coat with sapphire colored boots to match. "Why that was none other than Clarice Rougue of _Rougue Studios_, the goddess of fashion and the mistress of accessorizing." Chelsea on the other hand doubled over in laughter. Denny decided to join her, laughing instead at Roberts praise of the woman as much as his attire.

Lanna looked up thoughtfully. "Wait, so you mean that woman was Chelsea's mother?"

"I believe it," Denny said, wiping tears from his eyes. He pointed a finger at Chelsea, "It reminds me of the day your stuff was being moved out of your house." Chelsea, who was still laughing, could only respond by giving him a weak high five.

Robert stomped his foot. "Really, you two are awful; you should show more respect, especially you Chelsea."

No more could be said because at that moment Mirabelle called them all to attention and announced that the judging would take place in just a few short minutes. They all gathered towards the staging area in groups, most of the young adults clustered together. Sabrina, who had managed to escape her father, stood beside Vaughn, who had unconsciously positioned himself by Chelsea, who didn't notice. Julia stood on the other side of Chelsea, while Mark took a place by Sabrina. Denny, Lanna, Natalie and Pierre stood close by. Pierre took the time to explain to Shea that the sheep were not for eating, who in turn restrained his uncle.

Chelsea told Mark to watch the judging carefully so that he could learn what to look for in a good sheep. She, Julia and Vaughn kept close watch of the proceedings; Sabrina kept a closer watch on Vaughn. Unbeknown to them all watched Clarice, observing both Chelsea and Sabrina. Robert stood discreetly behind her, surveying it all.

Like she had hoped, the lamb from Mineral Town was the winner. She jumped up and down excitedly and hugged Julia, who returned the gesture happily, then Vaughn who turned red and went completely rigid. Realizing what she had done she let him go and apologized, reaching up in an attempt to pat him on the head. He batted her hand away and pulled his hat over his eyes, causing both Julia and Chelsea to giggle. Denny, too, laughed and slapped him on the back good naturedly. It seemed only Sabrina wasn't amused by what had just occurred, aside from Shea, who was oblivious.

The sun began to set as crowd began to disperse and the contestants began to lead their animals away. Taro, Gannon, Elliot, Chen, and Mirabelle stayed behind to clean up the grounds, while Regis beckoned Sabrina to him and together with Clarice departed. Robert followed them at a discreet distance. The rest of the young adults left together, separating into smaller groups where the road diverged. Denny, Natalie, Vaughn, and Chelsea were all that were left when the very last crossroad was reached. Waving goodbye to each other they each went down a different path.

Sabrina perked up from her book at the sound of voices above. It sounded as her father and Madam Clarice were finished with their meal, from which Sabrina had excused herself early to finish a book she was deep into. Something about the tone had changed enough to pique her curiosity. She thought about ascending the stairs when she heard the chairs move followed by footsteps. She positioned herself against the wall that was connected to her father's office in hopes that it was their destination. To her delight it was, as they descended the stairs and positioned themselves at the desk. Clarice's assistants had long since been excused before dinner so that they would have to fend for themselves. Robert, who was not too far down the road offered to show them the diner on the island.

"I would like to get right to the point," Clarice's voice could be heard clearly through the wall. Sabrina pressed her back to it, with her head turned slightly to hear better, book in her lap in case anyone came to check on her. "There is another reason I came to this island; I came to confirm something, and to ask for your assistance."

"I would be happy to send you the finest diamonds we find in the mines, of course. As well as any other jewels of decent caliber that we find," Regis answered.

"That is not what I wished to ask," was her reply. There was a pause before she continued. "The assistance I require is of a… different nature."

"Different nature you say?"

"Yes."

"Of what then?"

"It is about my daughter."

"Chelsea? A wonderful girl, if more plainly dressed than I would expect from a girl of her background." He laughed, "To think all this time she had been an heiress!"

Clarice did not seem to share in his amusement. "An heiress yes she is indeed, but this farming business has distracted her from her true responsibilities. Imagine if Sabrina were to one day leave to work in a sweatshop."

Sabrina winced as she heard her father pound the table. "Nonsense! My Sabrina would never do such a thing! She is far too precious and superior to end up in such a place!"

"Then you understand my feelings," Clarice said smoothly. "My daughter should be taking command of _Rougue Studios_, not playing in the mud and brushing dirty animals."

"Hmm," Regis replied agreeably. Sabrina knew him well enough to imagine him sitting with his elbows on the desk and his head resting on his folded hands. "What exactly is this favor you seek from me then?"

"Aside from all of this she has developed an… attraction to a certain person on this island, making it all the more difficult to persuade her home. If not for him I would have far less trouble convincing her of where she truly belongs."

"And why exactly do you come to me with this observation?"

"Because I have also observed this attraction exists in Sabrina as well." Sabrina gasped, quickly covering her mouth and hoping she had not been heard.

"You are talking about that gruff cowboy Vaughn," Regis said in a dangerously low voice. "My Sabrina is far too good for the likes of him. I would never encourage such a match!"

"Do you wish your daughter to be happy?" Clarice inquired.

"Of course I do!"

"Well if she truly loves this man, then encouraging him would in turn make her happy."

"But he's just a poor cow—"

"Who believes money is more important than anything, so I have been informed," Clarice finished. "Think about it Regis; would you rather have a son-in-law who only took money from your wallet, or one that would help you to gain more? It is more of a desirable match than you think. Besides," she said in a scoffing tone, "I've taken a look at the rabble around this island; he is the best looking of the lot. And doesn't your daughter deserve the best?"

Sabrina held her breath for her father's answer. Finally she heard him slide back into his chair and murmur, "I suppose you are right." Then in a more businesslike tone, "So what would you have me do?"

"Simple, encourage him with your money. Bring the two together as much as possible. I am sure Sabrina would be more than willing to cooperate, giving her feelings for him."

"And Chelsea?"

Clarice sounded so smug it made Sabrina feel sick inside. "Nothing urges stronger for a change of scenery than a broken heart. When she realizes that Vaughn has spurned her for another, she won't want to set foot on this island again."

"What of the farm?" Regis queried. "It is the life vein of this island you know. Without it I cannot continue running my business here."

Clarice brushed his worries aside, "I have already been informed that she has a helper on her farm. Whoever that is can take over when she leaves. It's as simple as that."

Sabrina moved away from the wall as quietly as she could. Her head was spinning and her heart was pounding. It was more than she could have ever hoped for to have her father actually approve of her choice. But guilt gripped her heart as well; the true goal of the plan was to break Chelsea's heart. She was always so kind and sweet to everyone she met. True, Sabrina felt very strongly for Vaughn, and she saw that he was falling for Chelsea, but to willingly put her though that kind of pain? She didn't know if she could do it. And her mother, how could she be willing to hurt Chelsea in such a way? She even seemed happy about it!

Sabrina clenched her heart and collapsed to the floor. She tried to calm herself and asked the question: what would she do for Vaughn's love? A tear rolled down her check at what she knew was her answer: anything. Another frustrated tear fell as she once again grappled with her conscience.

Just then the phone rang in the other room. Regis picked it up. "Hello, yes this is Regis. To whom am I speaking? Robert? Yes Clarice is right here… I'll relay the message." The phone was set back on its dialer. "The animal shop has called for you; apparently something has happened to Chelsea."

As Chelsea entered her property something seemed very wrong. Fear welled up inside her as she swiveled her head back and fourth, looking for what gave her this disturbing feeling. From inside the stable Spark was barking wildly. Chelsea thought this very odd, for she had intentionally left Spark outside to guard the livestock, knowing she wouldn't be back until very late.

No sooner did she let Spark out the little dog dashed off in the direction of the chicken pen. Running after her with growing anxiety, she soon saw the cause of her distress. In the distance was a large black dog charging towards a lone chicken that even at full fluttering speed could not hope to escape.

All of the fear inside Chelsea quickly molded into rage. She put in an extra burst of speed and charged after her chicken. She dropped to the ground and slid between the wild dog and her frantic hen. Using a roll she scooped her chicken up in her right arm and with her left searched her backpack for a tool. The wild dog was too close. In a last ditch effort Chelsea hunched over and turned her back to it, her chicken huddling in her lap. Red flashed before Chelsea's eyes, followed by searing pain. The shock was enough to jolt her left arm into action. Gripping the handle she spun around and let her hammer fall with an ominous boom next to the wild dog. The dog yelped in surprised and scurried away. If it had any ideas of a second attack, they were quickly forgotten as Spark arrived on the scene and barred her fangs.

Chelsea felt a peck at her arm and looked down to see she had a death grip on her chicken. Putting her hammer away she stood and switched the arm holding the chicken. Hot liquid was now pouring down her right, but it was too dark to see the damage. Making sure she had a good grip on her shivering hen she went to the only place she could think of that could bandage such a wound. "It's a shame Trent has already left," she mused aloud.

A gentle shake roused Vaughn from his sleep. As his eyes quickly adjusted to the dark he was surprised to see the inn keeper. "The owner of the animal shop has asked for you, sir." Vaughn grunted in reply and quickly dressed himself. In the lobby stood Julia, who was looking around and bobbing in place with impatience. Upon spotting him she grabbed his wrist and dragged him outside.

"What's wrong? Is one of the animals sick?"

Julia shook her head, still dragging him, "None of ours, but we want you to look at Chelsea's chicken."

"What happened?"

"Wild dog. Chelsea was bitten."

Vaughn brows furrowed and he marched forward dragging Julia.

Vaughn slammed the Animal Shop's door open and froze as the site before him sank in.

Chelsea looked up at him with a hard expression while Mirabelle crouched in front of her with a cotton swatch, a medical kit at her side. To the other side of Chelsea was a series of cotton swatches covered in blood; her arm was torn open with a long gash that started at her elbow and ended just behind her wrist.

Julia tugged at his arm to pull him the rest of the way in but he refused to move. "What happened?" he growled.

Chelsea turned her gaze from him and instead watched what Mirabelle was doing. "I came home to discover one of my chickens was out of the pen and being chased by a wild dog," she explained in an even tone, "I ran in between her and the dog and shielded her with my body. Then I scared it away and came here." Vaughn didn't know to be angry or impressed; she was not in the least perturbed by this.

"Vaughn, the chicken," Julia insisted, trying to lead him to the hen that was being kept in a protective carrier.

"I'm sorry," Chelsea said quietly, though her tone indicated otherwise.

"What were you thinking?!" Vaughn howled. Chelsea flinched but otherwise showed no remorse for her actions. He banged the side of wall hard enough to make the picture frames wobble. "That dog could have killed you! Did that ever occur to you! What was through your head?!" he shook with the violence of his feelings.

She looked at him hotly, returning his stubborn anger. Keeping that expression she turned her attention to her chicken and murmured, "I was _thinking_ that I didn't want to lose anyone else."

For a moment Vaughn was taken aback and the anger lifted from his features. But he was also stubborn and not quite ready to let this go. "Did it occur to you that we didn't want to lose anyone else either?" She made a scoffing sound that reignited his anger. "Dammit Chelsea!"

"Vaughn, enough!" Mirabelle shouted. "Yelling won't help anything. I called you here to take a look at Chelsea's bird. We think it might have been injured. Now go and check!" Vaughn grumbled but consented, finally allowing Julia to lead him across the room. He opened the crate and tried to coax the bird out, but she refused and pushed herself as into the back as possible.

"Her name is Tina," Chelsea offered, noticing his troubles. At the sound of Chelsea's calm voice the hen turned and moved a bit towards the opening. With her free hand she beckoned him to bring the crate closer. He walked over and held the crate up so that Tina could see Chelsea's face. "There now, Tina, it's okay," she cooed and Vaughn could not escape the loving expression Chelsea gave, "it's all over now. He won't hurt you." Slowly but surly Tina crept to the front of the cage and as she tried to jump into Chelsea's lap Julia deftly caught her and pulled her away for Vaughn's inspection. More to herself she said, "How could she have gotten out?"

"What I want to know," Julia said, still holding Tina as Vaughn check gently checked her legs, "is why Spark didn't sense the wild dog."

"That's the other weird thing; I left Spark outside to guard the pens before I left, but when I got home she was trapped in the stable."

"You realize that dog could have had rabies," Vaughn growled, though not as intensely as before. He was now checking Tina's wings and didn't want to startle her.

Chelsea let out an angry sigh. "I know."

He spun around and faced Chelsea again, "And you still put yourself in harm's way?!"

"Yes I did!" she yelled back, then winced as she jostled her injured arm. "How's Tina?" she grumbled.

"She has a sprained wing but other than that she's fine," he answered. He took the hen from Julia and gently returned her to the crate.

"On my first trip back to the city, before the funeral visit, I went to a clinic and got the heavy duty rabies shot just in case," she looked at him stubbornly. "I do know the risks involved with caring for animals."

Julia's eyes widened slightly, "Spark didn't get bitten did she?"

For a moment Chelsea looked worried too as she scanned her memories. Letting out a sigh of relief she said, "No she didn't. Spark wasn't harmed."

"Just you," Vaughn grumbled.

"Would you let it go?!" Chelsea barked.

"No, I will not!" he bellowed slamming his hand on the counter. "I was called over here with no idea how you might be injured and I… you…," he threw his hands up in frustration and stalked off to the other side of the room.

"Dear, Vaughn was probably very worried about you," Mirabelle said gently.

"We all were," Julia nodded. "When you first came in your arm was completely covered in blood. I was afraid the cut went all the way to the bone."

"You were very brave to protect your hen like that. I'm very impressed that you care for your animals so much," Mirabelle continued, "but please be more careful in the future."

Chelsea looked down and softened her expression. Haltingly she said, "I'm… sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry."

Mirabelle patted her hand comfortingly, "Luckily it was only a glancing blow. The deepest part is close to the elbow but overall it's a very shallow wound. You won't have any lasting damage."

"Thank goodness," Julia breathed.

"Thank you, Mirabelle," Chelsea smiled.

Mirabelle smiled back. "It's no problem dear. And since your mother was on the island I took the liberty of calling her as well. She should be here soon."

Chelsea's smile disappeared, her eyes widening. "You… called my mother?"

"Yes dear," she replied, confused at Chelsea's distress. "I thought she might be worried about you." Vaughn humped from his corner.

"I'm not so sure about that," Chelsea stammered.

In the next moment the doors burst open to reveal an annoyed Clarice. "What's all this then? What is the meaning of calling me out here?"

Mirabelle stood and straightened her dress. "Hello ma'am. Chelsea was attacked by a wild dog this evening, and as you were on the island I thought you might want to know."

Clarice looked down her nose at the short plump woman with irritation. "Is that all?"

Julia and Mirabelle looked upon her with dumbfounded expressions. Vaughn scowled from his corner of the room. Finally noticing him Clarice wrinkled her nose. "Why is it that every time I see my daughter I am also confronted by you?" She walked over to Chelsea and scowled down at her. Chelsea bit back a cry and winced as Clarice roughly grabbed her injured arm and inspected it, her nails digging into Chelsea's skin.

"I was just about to wrap her bandages," Mirabelle stammered. Trying to clear the air she continued in a more cordial manner. "She was very brave defending her flock from a wild dog. You should be very proud of her."

"All I'm hearing is that if she were in the city where she's supposed to be this would have never happened," Clarice retorted. Taking a moment to fix her daughters gaze with hatred she added, "It serves you right." She glanced back at Mirabelle. "Is the wound life threatening?"

"No, it's—"

"Then there was no need to call me," Chelsea cried out involuntarily as Clarice thrust her arm back down, scratching her in the process. She held her arm protectively and scowled at her mother. Ignoring her she scanned the room and noticed the chicken in the crate. "Why you even care so much for such wretched creatures is beyond me." Taking a closer look she seemed to recognize the hen. "If I'm not mistaken that is the same fowl that attacked me." Chelsea's face cleared of all emotion.

"What?"

"I took the liberty of visiting your estate before the festival; it was more pathetic than I had expected. Can our money truly buy nothing more than a few dingy buildings?" She wrinkled her nose in disgust. When Chelsea continued to stare at her blankly Clarice brushed her off with a wave of her hand and continued. "I must say your animals are very poorly trained. Your useless mutt wouldn't stop barking at us until one of my assistants locked it away, and when I picked up that chicken she threatened to gouge my eyes out! It's a shame those dogs didn't catch it."

The scratch Clarice left was now dotted with buds of blood.

"You've got some nerve!" Vaughn shouted. He pointed at Chelsea's arm, "She doesn't need to be bitten by _two_ dogs today!"

Clarice rounded on him, "How dare you! If you knew who you were speaking to, what I could do, you wouldn't be so quick to insult." She looked around the room haughtily. "Do not bother me again unless Chelsea is dying," and with that she stormed out.

"What an awful woman," Mirabelle huffed. She looked to Chelsea sympathetically, "I'm sorry dear; I truly thought she would be concerned."

"It's alright. It's your concern I'm touched by," she smiled warmly at Mirabelle. "Thank you."

"'Don't call me unless she's dying'," Julia scoffed. "What nerve. It's no small wonder why you ran away."

"Julia, why don't you go heat up some hot chocolate, I think we could all use it." Julia nodded and went back to the kitchen. Vaughn took a stool at the counter and put his head in his hands, letting out a huff of exhaustion. "Now then," grabbing the gauze she kneeled down in front of Chelsea and began dressing the wound. When it was all wrapped up Mirabelle helped her fit a makeshift sling about her shoulder. Julia returned with four mugs of hot chocolate when they all sipped in silence, each of them deep in their own reflections.

Chelsea set her empty cup on the table. "Thank you for the help, I'm sorry to have bothered you so late. I should get going."

"Not at all dear, just promise you'll be careful. In fact," Mirabelle looked to Vaughn, "Why don't you take Tina in the crate and walk Chelsea home. You two need to sort out your differences anyhow," she frowned.

Without a word Vaughn picked up the crate with the now sleeping Tina inside and went out the door. Chelsea watched him go and thanked Julia and Mirabelle again for their help. "I'll have Felicia phone Mineral town and have Trent come take a look at your arm. Until then try not to overwork that arm."

Chelsea stepped outside and saw Vaughn waiting for her on the road, avoiding her gaze. With a sigh she joined him and in silent consent they began the walk. "How long do you think I should keep her separated from the flock," she said in attempt to break the silence.

He thought for a moment, "Keep her in the crate at night and inside the coop during the day. She only sprained her wing so she should be fine within a day or two." Again silence fell. This time it was he who broke it. "Did the dog just scratch you, or did it also bite you?"

"I'm not really sure; I was looking away at the time. I think it was only a scratch though." She looked down sadly, "I was so angry I wasn't thinking, but I didn't want to hurt the dog either. I only wanted to scare it off." She kicked the ground angrily. "My mother has done some stupid things in her day, but this-!"

"You did something pretty stupid, too," Vaughn replied. They rounded the corner towards her house, now on her property.

Chelsea's face hardened, "I'm not going to apologize for saving Tina's life, Vaughn."

"Well what about your life?" he countered.

"What about it! You saw my mother's reaction! Who would really miss me?"

"I WOULD!"

Chelsea stood wide eyed as stillness settled between them. Now in front of her house Vaughn sat the crate down and began pacing.

"I am sorry for making you worry; I didn't think…" she hesitated.

"That's just it, you didn't think! When Julia told me you were bitten I didn't know what to think. I've seen people lose limbs, Chelsea."

"What more can I say?" she demanded, throwing her left arm up in the air. "It happened. I can't change the past."

"I… I don't know. The thought of you being attacked or fatally injured I… I was scared." He stopped in front of her and faltered. "I don't get close to many people, and I have fewer friends. You said you didn't want to lose anyone else but you… I… don't want to lose anyone else, either."

Looking down Chelsea's expression finally showed the regret he'd been looking for, but it was no longer satisfying. "I'm sorry, Vaughn." Keeping her eyes downcast she continued, "You were right when you said I wasn't thinking. When I saw that dog charging little Tina, it was like watching the inevitable; like watching the disease race towards my father, always gaining ground, and impossible to stop. Rage fueled me faster and before I knew it I was holding Tina and swinging my hammer. I… apologize for being so bull headed."

He let out an exasperated sigh, feeling completely drained. Careful of her injured arm he wrapped his arms around her. He rested his head on hers and held her for a few moments. "Don't be so reckless," he said. He felt her nod underneath him. He closed his eyes and dared to hold her tighter.


	24. News Reports

If Mark was excited to get the chance to test his ranching skills, it was quickly lost when he saw Chelsea's right arm in a sling. Chelsea offered to pay him double for having to do all of the work, and although she couldn't help, she did follow him and gave advice whenever it was needed.

At first Chelsea though she could at least water the crops, but the power up swing required a force that sent pain through her injured arm and she was forced to instead become a spectator.

Not long after the farm work was done doctor Trent arrived. "The cut is shallow but long," he said. "Give it a week to heal and we'll see where we are." Chelsea groaned in response, to which Trent nodded understandingly. "I know you want to keep working, but your health comes first. Now," he rustled through his bag until finally he pulled out a small jar. "This should keep the scratch from scarring; use it as often as you can, two times a day at minimum."

"Okay, thank you Doctor Trent," said Chelsea.

Trent smiled, "Don't worry about it. All things considered, you were pretty lucky. Were you injured anywhere else?"

"No. My legs and back are a bit sore from all the running and tumbling, but that should fade in a couple of days." Chelsea though about something for a moment before asking, "Dr. Trent, will I be able to play violin?

Trent considered the question. "I think that would be unwise until your arm is further along. Attempting to practice may cause you unnecessary pain. On this I say we wait a week as well, maybe two."

Well, Chelsea thought to herself, at least there's no set date on the music festival yet. I'll just practice singing with Lanna. "Thanks again, Trent. I'm sorry for dragging you all the way out here."

"It's no problem. Things are pretty slow at my home clinic anyway," He said with a smile. "I'll be back in a week."

"Hey Chelsea, what's this thing?" came Mark's muffled cry from outside.

Trent and Chelsea went outside to find Mark staring at a large package in front of her house. Chelsea read the label. "It's a television set," she stated.

"Oh… I didn't know you ordered a TV," Mark replied.

"I didn't."

"That must be what was in all of those other packages." Both of them turned to look at Trent, who nodded. "The ferry I came on had many packages identical to that one. The Captain said they were a gift for every establishment on the island. As I understand it even the free inn and the church are receiving one."

"Who sent them?" Chelsea asked looking troubled.

"The Captain said they chose to remain anonymous."

"I wonder if they'll put the hotel TV in the lobby," Mark wondered aloud.

"Well, I'd best be off," Trent said. "Take care."

They both waved goodbye as Trent set off for the docks.

"Do you want help bringing it in, Chelsea?" Mark asked.

"No. Leave it there. I don't want it."

"What? Why not? It's a free TV set!"

"Exactly," she gave Mark a hard look, "Who would buy television sets for an entire island?"

Mark shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe Taro did, or Felicia, you know, because the island is doing so well. Maybe it's their way of thanking everyone for all their hard work in restoring the island?"

Chelsea wasn't so sure. Taro wasn't the sort of person to spend money on something like this; he would see it as an unnecessary luxury. She had an idea of who could be behind this act of charity, but not a motive. Whatever it was, Chelsea decided, she'd best be able to keep an eye on it."

"Okay, Mark," she said reluctantly, "I'll keep it for now. Let me get the dolly by the stable." Typically she used the dolly to transport animal food from Mirabelle's, but she didn't want Mark to try lifting it by himself. The last thing they needed was two injured farmers. Returning with the dolly, Mark set it in place and wheeled the package inside. They set it up against the back wall, in between the shelves and the bathroom door. The TV was set with basic programs: a weather channel (that was bound to put Taro out), the news, a channel with the weird combination of soap operas and sports, and a channel broadcasted from Mineral Town about farming basics. Before Mark could get too engrossed in the farming channel Chelsea ushered him outside and led the way into town.

The sight before them was quite comparable to chaos. In the middle of the crossroad was a large stack of identical boxes. People were crowded around the pyramid, gossiping about who could have sent them as Taro barked directions to the crew who were sent ashore to distribute them.

Noting Chelsea and Mark's approach, Taro put his hands on his hips and smiled proudly. "Well now, have you received your TV? Good, good. It's this great? Someone from the mainland must have seen our rising potential and deposited these gifts on our shore. It's nice to see some honest charity still in the world." Felicia and Elliot were just as excited as he was, to Chelsea's disappointment. No one seemed to view the gift as suspicious.

In fact, everyone seemed to be elated by the donation, and as the day progressed the once busy streets became deserted as people took to their television sets. Chelsea caught Julia completely absorbed into a soap opera and found Lanna likewise occupied, ruling out any singing practice for the day. The only one who seemed unaffected was Robert, who was much more concerned about Chelsea's arm and took it upon himself to be her personal escort for the rest of the day.

* * *

It didn't take Chelsea long to discover the purpose for the gifts. A few days after the commotion, and as another typical work day finished, Chelsea made her way to Mirabelle's as she usually did. She didn't make it past Taro's.

A crowd was gathered around her house listening to a news broadcast. An even larger crowd was around the inn. Curious, Chelsea stood in the back in hopes of hearing was had piqued everyone's interest. As she approached, people looked back at her and began murmuring to themselves.

"… and with the passing of a tycoon in the fashion world, it seems that only more trouble lies ahead. The only named heir to the company, Chelsea Rougue, is no where to be found. Our new station took the liberty of interviewing some of her known friends, as well as her mother, Clarice Rougue." The camera cut to a girl Chelsea remembered making an enemy at an early age. "Apparently, the Ice Princess has taken to playing in the mud," the girl quipped indifferently. One after another clips of girls from Chelsea's social ring appeared each one more than happy to take a stab at her. "She'd rather be on some gross and poor island than be at home. There isn't even a resort there!" "I don't know what she's thinking. Then again, maybe she isn't." "Chelsea was the true cause of Franklin's poor health, I've always thought so." "She faked her death to cause her parents trouble. She's not satisfied with losing one parent; she wants to torment her mother further."

The camera switched to a room with two comfortable chairs turned towards each other. In one sat the reporter, in the other Clarice, who smiled kindly, "Now, now, I understand there have been a lot of misapprehensions about my daughter, but there is a perfectly sound explanation: she is studying on location. We as the studio are currently making preparations to set up a new facility for procuring and producing the leather we provide for our designers. We only want to use the best, and Chelsea is determined to know every aspect of the business. She is currently researching humane methods for raising the animals we get our materials from."

"We heard that she is also raising chickens," remarked the reporter.

"She likes them, apparently. Her father, before his untimely death, even sent her a plush chicken as way of encouragement. His hands were failing him you see and he was unable to write letters to his beloved daughter. However we do plan on using feathers in some of our designs for next season's lineup. Chicken feathers would be sufficient as inexpensive practice for the final product."

"What about the crops? Can you tell us about that?"

"Of course. We want to know first hand if organic vegetables are better for you than… whatever they call the other kind, inorganic I suppose. You don't stay thin by eating artificial products, do you? Our models have to stay at the pique of physical fitness if they are to perform to our liking. As you can see nothing is too small when it comes to caring for our employees."

"My, that is quite opposite of the rumors," replied the astonished reporter.

"Quite so. Chelsea is deeply concerned about her image, so up until now this has been under wraps. However, with all of the horrible rumors gaining strength, I felt it necessary to step forward." As Clarice spoke, footage of Chelsea walking in and out of the studio behind her parents appeared on the screen set behind and in between the reporter and herself. For each cut, Chelsea was wearing something that came from an animal, her expression cold and distant with not the slightest hint of a smile.

"Well, that's all the time we have for today," exclaimed the reporter. She shook hands with Clarice. "Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with us."

Clarice smiled again, "The pleasure is all mine."

* * *

Pounding, rhythmic breathing in time with her steps, Chelsea focused on the sound of her feet touching the ground as she ran into the forest. Her arm felt hot as blood rushed to it, but she paid no mind. All she wanted was to get away from staring eyes. This couldn't happen again, it just couldn't. This place was supposed to be her sanctuary….

Chelsea slowed to a stop, now deep in the forest, and sat down on a nearby stump. She rested her hand over the inflamed wound at is burned, throbbing painfully with every beat of her quickened heart. She sighed to herself; she shouldn't have done that. The urge to be alone had been overpowering but she didn't need to run, at least not after crossing the bridge. But then someone might have caught me, she mused. Chelsea looked up and surveyed her surroundings. She was somewhere in between the goddess pond and the witch's house. She closed her eyes and tried to calm her nerves, listening to the sounds of the forest.

"That was some show."

Chelsea turned to see the Witch Princess leaning against a nearby tree. Her voice was deceivingly young and perky—if sometimes tinged with boredom—but it could cut through the air like a dagger when she was angry. This time, however, she seemed amused.

"How do you know about it?" Chelsea inquired, knowing instantly to what Witch was referring.

"Oh, the church didn't want their television set so I took it off their hands," Witch Princess shrugged, "something about 'disturbing the Goddess' peace.' If only. Oh well, it's their loss."

"Well, at least two people weren't watching that broadcast," Chelsea mumbled. She was not in the mood for this now.

"Yeah, that interview was brutal," Witch Princess laughed. "Who knew the island's little angel was secretly slaughtering cows and harassing chickens? Simply brilliant. Actually, I was surprised by how different your mother is. I was sure she was a goody-goody like you." She took a seat next to Chelsea and smiled. "You should introduce me. I'd love to learn some new insults to use on the Goddess."

"Keep badgering me and I might teach you a few myself," Chelsea growled. A small voice in the back of her mind pointed out that it was not a good idea to make the Witch Princess angry, but she pushed the feeling aside. "Come to the next festival if you're truly interested. If she's there I'll point you in her direction, but don't blame me if she looks at you as if you were filthy."

"Oho! There she is!" Witch Princess chimed sounding truly amused. "Looks like you are her daughter after all. There's hope for you yet."

Chelsea stood immediately and glared down at the witch. "If you ever invent a spell that swaps parents and offspring, let me know. I'd gladly be anyone else's child." And with that she stormed off, back towards the town and hopefully to the only other wilderness in which she could seek refuge.

She slowed her march as she approached the bridge and to her intense relief the crowds had dissipated. Not taking any chances, she took the back way behind the in, then behind Taro's house, and through Mirabelle's fields to get to east town. As she passed Taro's she overheard a conversation between Natalie and Julia.

"Have you seen Chelsea?" Julia was asking, "I'm worried about her. She was supposed to meet me at my place when that awful news report came on. I wanted to tell her that I didn't believe a word of it, but she never came." Julia sounded truly worried.

"I heard some people talking," Natalie responded. Though she tried to sound calm, Chelsea could detect a hint of worry in her voice as well. "Apparently she saw the whole thing, and when it was over people said she just ran off towards the forest without a word."

"Maybe we should go look for her. She shouldn't be alone, and she's still injured."

"Maybe she'll be at the church. Word is they didn't want their set." And with that Natalie and Julia set off. Though touched by their loyalty, Chelsea continued on in the opposite direction. They would want to talk about it, which for Chelsea's feelings was also the opposite direction.

Entering east town she kept off the main road, heading directly north. She was especially careful of the hotel, in case Robert was lurking nearby. Once she hit the river she stuck close to the trees, and without incident she crossed the bridge into the jungle.

Chelsea didn't have to go far to realize that there were even more people who had not seen or heard the news report. In the center of the clearing in which she usually collected stone and lumber was a television set on its back with a broken screen run through by a spear Chelsea recognized all to well. The sight cheered her up considerably.

"Chelsea, that you?" said a voice from the bushes.

"It's me, Shea," Chelsea responded with a smile.

"Good you're here. Strange box come today," he pointed at the television. "Man that came, say he 'plug in with extension cord' from hotel. Strange light came from box so I killed it. Man got scared and ran off." Shea made a grimace, "tried to eat it but no good. Shell too hard and sharp pieces hurt. No try to eat this, Chelsea," he said warningly.

Chelsea laughed heartily at his story and pat his shoulder reassuringly. "No, this is not for eating. Don't worry, I won't try."

"Good," Shea said with a smile. "Now you're hear, want learn how to hunt real food?"

"That sounds like fun. Will we be using spears?"

"Of course!"

"Good, I need to get anger out of my system."

"No, no hunt with anger," Shea said with the air of a teacher to a student. "Must be calm when hunting. Come, I show you." He led her deeper into the jungle and proceeded to explain how to catch a fish using a spear. The TV sat in the clearing, lonely and long forgotten.


	25. Cooking Festival

It was now Spring 24 and the day of the Cooking Festival. Chelsea was less than eager to show her face in front of the entire island, but her pride as a culinary student persuaded her to participate. Despite having to do the farm chores on his own, as Chelsea was still a little too sore to help out, he managed to finish in time for them to both head over to the festival grounds and sign up for a cooking category. Mark, who had received necessary ingredients from Chelsea's ranch before leaving, signed up for the appetizer category. Chelsea signed up for salads, as it was something she could do one-handed.

Leaving the grounds to begin preparing, Mark and Chelsea bumped into Julia, who was also signing up. Julia waggled a finger in front of her and made Chelsea promise to come to her house as soon as she was done with her contest entry. A little confused Chelsea nodded and Julia walked off without another word or glance back. She exchanged a bewildered expression with Mark before continuing down the road.

They waved goodbye to each other, as Mark had made plans with the diner's cook who had offered to lend him some kitchen space for the day. Before either of them could take another step they were both teleported to their respective destinations; Chelsea wobbled a little on her landing. She could have sworn she heard an eco that sounded like the Goddess' laughter, but decided not to read too much into it. There were some mysterious phenomenon on this island, and it was best not to question them.

Chelsea entered her house and proceeded to make an herb salad for her contest entry; it would require less chopping than a regular salad, and restored more stamina when eaten, which she was sure was a judging factor. It was a rather simple recipe, and even with the struggle of using only one arm she was finished before long.

"Well… I'd better get this over with then," Chelsea said aloud to herself. Gathering up her dish in her mysteriously spacious bag, she made her way to Mirabelle's farm. At least it would be quiet today, Chelsea supposed, with everyone at home working on their recipes.

The moment Chelsea announced her presence in the shop Julia rounded the corner and charged still holding a wooden spoon covered in cookie dough. "Where have you been?" she exclaimed, "We've been so worried about you! Natalie heard you went running into the forest but we couldn't find you anywhere!"

"Sorry, Julia, I did go there first," Chelsea admitted, "but after having a rather unpleasant run in with the Witch Princess, I decided to go to the jungle instead."

"She did tell us that she had run into you. She seemed unusually cheerful about it," Julia added thoughtfully. "She told us to pass on a message too. 'If you see Chelsea I'm working on that switching spell right now.'"

"Probably want to make Clarice her mother instead," Chelsea mumbled.

"My, that news report caused quite a fuss yesterday didn't it?" Mirabelle came around the corner with bowl in hand, stirring with a spoon of her own. "Why I had several people come in here yesterday demanding I not sell any animals to you. I set them right, of course. That anyone would believe you could be cruel to your animals," she flung her spoon in exasperation at the idea, successfully splattering some ingredients on the walls and floor, before returning to the kitchen.

"I take if you two have entered the dessert contest?" Chelsea asked hopefully.

"Don't try to change the subject," Julia said seriously. "Now, first order of business," Julia reached forward and wrapped Chelsea in a gentle hug, "second, how is your arm feeling?"

"It's getting better. I'm sure in just a couple more days I'll be back to normal."

"And how about emotionally?"

"I…," Chelsea hesitated. She really didn't want to talk about it. The whole incident had hurt her more than she had thought possible. For all she disliked her mother's mind-set that news cast had crossed a whole new line in trying to alienate her from her new home. But here was Julia, truly concerned and reaching out to help. Chelsea took a deep breath and began a story which grew louder the longer it was told.

"And to think," Chelsea finished, "my mother is so completely wretched that she has the Witch Princess looking up to her. Heh," Chelsea barked mockingly, "she can have her. Maybe having a human mom will weaken her powers."

"Seems to me that having Clarice as a mother would only make her more powerful," said a low voice. Vaughn stepped into the room carrying a large sack of chicken feed. "That's the one thing her spell are missing, the desire to really hurt people."

Chelsea held her breath as she watched Vaughn enter. Her mind jumped back to all the people Mirabelle had said entered the story in a fury and was sure Vaughn would be furious with her if he had heard about the news report. She knew how much Vaughn cared about animals, and how he hated people who mistreated them. To Chelsea's relief, he looked calm and composed as he usually did.

"By the way," Vaughn said over his shoulder disinterestedly as he set the feed down, "Was that black and white cow or brown cow leather you were wearing?"

Julia gasped as Chelsea covered her head with her un-slung arm. "Not you, too," she groaned.

"How did you even see it?" Julia asked, "You weren't on the island that day. I thought the broadcast was only sent here in order to ruin Chelsea's reputation." Chelsea turned her head to glare at Julia, who returned an apologetic look.

"I was in Mineral Town and saw it through a window. I guess Clarice doesn't just want you kicked out of this town; she doesn't want you in any of them. Your family must be a big deal, huh?" Vaughn was looking down at Chelsea's slumped figure. "You still haven't answered my question."

"I would never do that!" Chelsea slammed her fist on the table. "I hated those outfits, every single one of them! My mother forced me to parade around in that animal abuse attire, with the threat that if I didn't wear them she would put more endangered animals on the top fashion list. Did you notice that I look incredibly pissed off in every single one of those shots, or were you more interested in the clothing?" Shaking with anger and looking into Vaughn's mildly surprised face, she sank back down into her previous position, covering as much of her head as possible.

An uncomfortable silence fell on the room, as Julia stared at Vaughn with the irritated expression that clearly said "nice going."

"Yo! Who set off the cow-killer?" said an approaching voice. "That's not a good idea, man. You know she carries an axe in that bag."

"Hey Denny," Vaughn replied as the fisherman walked through the door. At the same time Julia reproached, "You shouldn't say things like that, "Denny."

"Relax, she knows I'm kidding. Right?" He asked cheerfully, ducking his head under the counter to get a better look at her face. Her expression was not the one he expected. Chelsea had covered her face not in frustration but to hide the tears streaming down her cheeks. He stood upright and patted her on the back. "Oh, hey now, I didn't mean it, honestly." He stepped back as Julia moved forward to wrap Chelsea in a lose hug as Vaughn looked on silently.

"You're such an idiot, Denny," Lanna scolded as she entered the room and smartly clotted him on the head. "This isn't something to joke about! When will you learn how sensitive girls are?"

"I was only making fun of how ridiculous the whole thing is," Denny protested while protecting his head in anticipation of another attack. "I mean, who could honestly believe that fish tale? It's so much the opposite that she got herself injured while _protecting_ her animals!" Chelsea unconsciously caressed her injured arm.

"Some people do believe it, that's the problem," Lanna said sadly, "Not everyone on the island knows Chelsea like we do. I've even heard that some of the residents who love animals have moved away in protest."

Chelsea looked up in alarm. "Don't tell me Kipp and Buck moved out!" she exclaimed, naming some of the boy farmers she had worked so hard to recruit.

"Yes, sadly they did, dear." Mirabelle, who had been listening from the kitchen, appeared once more. Chelsea's vision of the stout woman began to blur as more hot tears filled her eyes. "I tried to convince them the report was nonsense, but they just wouldn't listen to me."

"Which is why we're going to prove them wrong," everyone turned to see Elliot, the speaker, walk in with Natalie, Felicia, and Taro in toe. Elliot was holding a video camera. He held the device up proudly. "We're going to use this to show everyone how well you take care of your animals, eh... after your arm heals of course. Ow!"

Natalie punched Elliot in the arm and interjected, "I told you that would be a really good sympathy angle. It'll show everyone how dedicated she it to protecting her livestock. You can unwrap it and show the camera when we start rolling."

"Now Natalie, we should let her heal a bit first before she goes on camera," Felicia said kindly, but in such a way that the matter was clearly ended. "After all," she added with a warm smile to Chelsea, "we can't show them how you tend them if you can't tend them."

"Where did you even get that camera?" Chelsea asked in wonder.

"Well," Taro began, puffing up his chest proudly, "normally I would consider something like this an unnecessary tool for our lifestyle, but in this case I made an exception. You've done so much for this island, this is but a small thing we can do for you. We have got to clear your name!" he ended in a yell.

"Hey, as long as we have that thing, maybe we can show my fans what I've been up too," Lanna chirped cheerfully.

"Whoa now, pop-star, let's not get carried away," Natalie replied, "We didn't get this thing so you could sing to it. Besides, I thought you were supposed to be taking a break?"

"Well, a pop-star's work is never really done is it?" Lanna laughed.

"It is when you're a one hit wonder," Natalie mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Now, now, girls," Mirabelle cooed, "lets not start fighting. Remember that this is for Chelsea. I for one think it's a wonderful idea."

"I really appreciate what you're trying to do," Chelsea reasoned, "but it's never going to work. You'll never get that news station to run a retraction on that interview, or to run this tape."

"What, why not?" asked Elliot.

Chelsea shrugged sadly, "I hate to say it, but my mother has far too much influence. If she asked the news station not to run the story, they would do it. She gives them so much business they're practically in her right pocket."

"You don't have to send it everywhere," Vaughn answered, speaking up for the first time. "You just have to send it to the places that matter. Right?" he added with a look at Chelsea.

"What do you mean the places that matter?" Natalie queried.

"You can correct me if I'm wrong Chelsea, but we only have to get the footage to air in the farming towns that our island does business with. I visit most of those towns on business of my own. If you make copies of the tape, I can pass them around to those local stations."

"You would do that, really Vaughn?" Julia asked joyfully. "Oh I knew you were just a big softie."

"Don't get me wrong," Vaughn snapped. "I'm doing this for my business. If Chelsea's ranch doesn't do well then I don't do well."

"Well then it's settled," Felicia chimed with a clap of her hands. "After your arm heals up a bit more we can come to your farm and spend 'a day in the life' with you. How does that sound?"

Chelsea looked around at the hopeful faces around her, and Vaughn's sullen one, and felt some of the warmth return to hear heart. "Thank you, everyone. This means a lot to me."

"Well now," Taro coughed looking slightly flushed. "Speaking of the Cooking Festival, I think we've idled away enough time now. If everyone's ready, we'll set off now. We shall arrive in FULL FORCE!"

"Oh, just one more minute, Taro." Mirabelle hustled back into her kitchen. "My cake is almost ready to come out. You're cookies are done, too, Julia."

"We'll just wait outside then. Come on, everyone!" As Taro commanded everyone was ushered outside, save for Vaughn, Chelsea and Julia who had returned to the kitchen to fetch her cookies. Neither one looked or spoke to one another. Just as Vaughn was about to Julia and Mirabelle returned, and he lost his chance. Joining the others, they all set off for the festival grounds.

"Hey!" Mark called from across the way. "How did your salad turn out? I made a steamed egg custard. I think it turned out okay."

"I'm sure you'll do great, Mark," Chelsea smiled.

"You're looking happy. Are you feeling better?" he asked kindly.

"Actually, I am. It's nice to have good friends."

"Well you certainly came with enough body guards," Mark peered over her shoulder at the crowd of people behind her, who were returning dirty looks to anyone who dared point at Chelsea.

"Come on, Chelsea. I'll walk you to the contest table," Taro said, taking her free arm in his in formal escort style. "I'm in the salad contest too. Don't get cocky now, I'm not about to lose to some young blood…." Taro's voice faded as they moved away from Mark, who chuckled appreciatively. In truth, he had been happy to see Chelsea arrive with so many people in toe. He had been afraid that she would continue to shy away from people like she had that morning. Over by the bridge he saw Sabrina arrive with Regis and ran over to greet them.

With all the contestants now arrived, Pierre began the contest in order of cooking category. Chelsea had been right about her choice, who's herb salad had managed to outdo Taro's regular one. Regis took the soup and drink category with his tomato soup, which was an unusually dark shade of red; he refused to reveal the secret ingredient to his recipe. To Mark's surprise and delight, he took first place in the appetizer category, as Denny won first place with his main dish of marinated fish. In the stiffest competition yet, between Julia, Mirabelle, and Felicia, Mirabelle's chocolate cake ended up on top.

As the competition finished the crowds dispersed with the winning contestants joining their families and friends in celebration. Chelsea was congratulated several times by the group who had escorted her, and even Taro conceded that the better recipe had won.

"But don't get cocky, now," he rounded. "I expect to win next year, so you better be ready."

"I'll remember that, Taro." Chelsea replied with a smile. "I would never dishonor you with anything but my best effort."

"Well now," Taro nodded with a proud smile, "you're a good girl. Always thought so. Keep up the good work." Chelsea waved goodbye as he made his way home with his family.

"You're sure you'll be okay to walk home by yourself?" Mark asked from beside her. "I don't mind, really."

"Thanks, Mark, but I'll be okay. Besides," she added, pointing towards a certain someone. "I know you really want to escort Sabrina home." Mark flushed and looked about to protest, but she stopped him. "Go on, I'll be fine." He thanked her and without further ado he ran off in Sabrina's direction. Sabrina seemed to be looking past him at someone, but Chelsea couldn't see who.

"Not bad for a one-handed chef," remarked Vaughn, who had come up silently behind her.

She turned and gave him a warm smile. "I'm surprised I won, but… there weren't a lot of people in my category so… I guess I just got lucky." Chelsea looked at the orange wonderful in her hands and felt a tinge of pride despite herself. She really was just lucky to win this time around. Perhaps I should cook up something special for Taro next time I see him, maybe the winning dish, she mused to herself. It's made of herbs, so maybe he'll like it. Or maybe he'll think I'm gloating.

Completely lost in thought, Chelsea did not notice the way Vaughn was looking at her. Before anyone would notice, and before he could change his mind, Vaughn bent over and kissed Chelsea lightly on the lips. "Meet me tomorrow at the beach," he whispered, then strode away as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. But something had happened, and someone did see. From behind a pole by the entry table, Robert watched the cowboy leave the festival, pulling his hat low over his face. And as he gazed at Chelsea, who's face was now the color of Regis' tomato soup, Robert knew that the time had come for action.


	26. Twisted Relations

An earlier morning than usual, and Vaughn lay awake in his bed. Staring at the wooden frame above him he pondered the best way to tell Chelsea. He didn't know where this would go, and he wanted to take things slow. Very slow! He would just have to explain that to her, that's all. Chelsea was very understanding. Vaughn slapped his hands hard against his face to wipe the idiotic, smiling thought from his mind. This was going to be a disaster….

* * *

Chelsea gave a great yawn as she rose from bed and winced as she unconsciously stretched her injured arm, which was now purpled from bruising. Still, she thought optimistically, it was a right side better than even two days ago. She hoped for a good report from Trent tomorrow as she prepared herself for the day. Mark, as usual was waiting outside for her and together they made their rounds about the farm.

"The potatoes are coming along nicely," Chelsea commented approvingly.

"You think so," Mark asked as he watered them. He took a few steps back and judged them from Chelsea's angle.

"I think we're in good shape to win the crop festival this season," she smiled. "And if we do win, I think I'll let you keep the prize money."

"There's no need," he said hastily, a slight blush on his face, "It's your farm, after all."

"True, but you planted this group, and have been doing all of the watering. I was going to offer the Wonderful to you, too, but I didn't think you'd accept it."

Mark rubbed the back of his head and blushed, "You know me that well, huh? Okay, then, deal, if we win the festival I'll take the prize money. Unless it's an Indigo Wonderful, that is," he joked.

Chelsea laughed, too. "Okay, deal. I think that's all for today. Come inside and wash up, I'll make us some lunch."

As Mark took a quick shower, for which he was grateful, Chelsea used the morning's eggs and some herbs to cook two servings of their winning entries from yesterday. They sat down at the table and enjoyed their lunch in companionable silence.

"Hey, Mark, do you want to walk down to the beach with me today?" Chelsea asked as she washed the dishes and he dried.

"Huh? What for?" he asked, cocking his head curiously.

"I'm meeting someone there today, and as I recall, Sabrina is usually on the beach around this time of day," she answered. "So I figured we could walk there together."

"Oh, okay," he said after a moment's hesitation, then more confidently, "Yeah, that sounds like a great idea. People are still giving you funny looks, huh?"

"That, and to keep Robert from being my escort," she answered. "I can't for the life of me figure out how he always knows where I am. It's not as if I'm that predictable, is it?" Mark smiled to himself and said nothing. When the dishes were done they picked up their bags and made their way to the beach. As they left the farm Chelsea began to feel nervous excitement wondering what Vaughn wanted to talk about.

"Maybe I can convince Sabrina to come up to the mines with me," Mark was saying amiably, unaware that Chelsea was just barely listening. "She'll like that I think. I've found some really good spots to find rare gems. She takes care of all of that stuff, you know. The documenting I mean. Sabrina looks after the profits and what sort of gems can be found on this island. Regis said that they stay here because he's convinced there are some promising gems in that mine. If I can find some really rare ones, I'll bet they'll live here permanently. That would be awesome! Which reminds me, who are you meeting on the beach? Chelsea?"

"Huh?" she said, snapping out of her thoughts. They were almost at the beach now, and Mark was looking at her curiously. Still walking, she now gave him her undivided attention and looked at him rather than where they were going.

"Who are you suppose to be meeting on the beach?"

"Oh," she blushed slightly, "Um… Vaughn asked me to meet him here, after the cooking festival."

"Oohhhh," Mark said narrowing his eyes and broadening his smile, "did he ask you after I left? I thought I saw him heading our way. He was waiting for me to leave then, huh? "

"Yes, yes, tease if you must. It seems we are both aiming to meet our crushes on this day. And so," she said joyfully, "you will meet with Sabrina and I will meet with…," her voice trailed off as she looked ahead once more, "Vaughn?"

* * *

Vaughn watched the ocean waves brush against the shore. The wind rustled his hair and, closing his eyes, he took a deep breath that smelt of salt and sea. A calm ocean always succeeded in calming him down. He couldn't finish his chores fast enough this morning in hopes of gaining a few extra hours of time to himself. In his rush he had made mistakes, to which he abhorred, but he concluded was a result of his jumbled feelings rather than his rushing. But that was all behind him now. Even Denny had had the sense to leave him alone this morning, to which he was grateful, though was perhaps due to the fact that Lanna had joined him to fish. The time to think had served him well; he knew exactly how he wanted to tell Chelsea.

"H-How are you, Vaughn?"

Vaughn spun around to see a very timid and shy-looking Sabrina. "Ah, it's you. You're not going to pass out again, are you?" he asked, remembering the run in they'd had awhile back when he escorted her home. That day she was paler than usual. She looked better today, though a little flushed.

"Tee-Hee," she giggled, "No I just wanted to thank you for helping me. I'm sorry that I worried you."

Worried? He thought to himself. That seemed like an odd thing to say. Concerned perhaps, but not worried. "I wasn't worried. If you pass out in the street, you'll be in the way of people." Meaning that to be the end of the conversation, he began to turn away to gaze at the ocean and wait for Chelsea.

"Y-You're so kind, Vaughn," she said cheerfully. He looked back at her in surprise to see her smiling, almost too much.

He felt his cheeks warm up, despite himself. "Are you talking to me?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes," she smiled. "You're so caring, deep down…."

Regaining some of his senses, he began to get a little irritated. He had just managed to calm himself down, and then this happens… and Chelsea would be here any minute. "You're an odd one…," he began, but before he could finish something hard hit the back of his head. He let out a yell and rubbing his head turn to confront Denny, but no one was there, only the large moss-covered boulder.

"Ahahah… I just wanted to thank you," she said hesitantly. He turned to her a look of confusion. Had she not seen that? He was about to ask her when something else hit him, in the shoulder this time. Expecting to catch Denny, he no sooner looked back at the boulder when he saw yet another projectile flying through the air, this time towards Sabrina who was saying something about leaving.

"Look out!" he exclaimed, making a mad dive towards her to push her out of the way. But the plan only half-worked; Sabrina tripped on something and, grabbing onto his sleeve, they both went crashing down.

There was a moment of darkness before Vaughn realized his eyes were closed and, opening them again, found himself lying on top of Sabrina, who was blushing madly. He felt her leg rub against his inner thigh and blushed, too.

"Vaughn?" said a distant voice. Chelsea and Mark were standing at the top of the beach.

Everyone seemed frozen on the spot. Vaughn on top of Sabrina, Mark looking from Sabrina to Vaughn, and Chelsea just staring blankly into Vaughn's stunned eyes. As time began to move once more, Mark starred at Sabrina with the look of absolute heartbreak. Chelsea looked to see how he was taking this and put her arm around him instantly.

"Let's go," she said and began to lead him away from the scene.

"Chelsea, wait!" Vaughn called desperately, scrambling to his feet. Sabrina just sat there, watching everything unfold, looking torn. Vaughn ran to catch up to Chelsea, "It's not what it looks like." He reached out to touch her shoulder.

She spun around like lightning to face him. Staring at him with hurt clouded behind some inner strength of will, he fell silent. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't know what to think right now, Vaughn. I'm still processing."

"Just let me explain—."

"Believe me, I want to, but not now," she made a side-glance towards Mark. Vaughn began to say something but she cut him off sharply, "Look! This isn't about you or me right now. I have to get him out of here!" Vaughn finally noticed the stricken expression on Mark's face, standing there listless and numb. She turned away and began to lead Mark off of the beach again, giving him a forceful push with her good arm to get him moving. She turned her head and said more gently, "We'll… talk later." Vaughn stood rigid as he watched them leave. Anger boiled to the surface as he tore his hat off of his head and threw it to the ground in frustration.

"I'm…sorry," said Sabrina, who was now behind him.

He picked up his hat and brushed the sand off of it before replacing it on his head. "Don't be. It wasn't your fault." Unknown to Vaughn, another wave of guilt struck Sabrina who was still unsure if she was doing the right thing.

"Perhaps… we should leave, too," she suggested.

"…Yeah," he agreed after a moment's thought. The both walked off of the beach, Sabrina following Vaughn a couple paces behind. "I know just the place, I can show you if you…," Sabrina began to say as they moved away from the shore.

* * *

On the other side of the beach, Denny watched the play unfold. Lanna, who had been sitting next to him, tried to understand what had just transpired. Even from this distance they could see that Mark was shattered by what he witnessed. "Poor Mark," Lanna whispered to herself. They watched the argument between Vaughn and Chelsea, which was loud enough for them to hear, all but the last portion, and then watched as Chelsea and Mark left…without Vaughn.

"Chelsea should have let him explain what happened," Lanna said, looking to Denny. "I mean it was a complete accident, right?" Now Sabrina and Vaughn were leaving the beach.

"I don't know about accident. Look," Denny pointed to the large boulder just as Robert appeared from the other side. He brushed himself off and strode off of the beach casually.

"What was he doing there?" Lanna wondered aloud. "Spying?"

"I'm not sure," Denny said, "but from what I could see, every time Robert swung his arm, something hit Vaughn."

"So he was throwing things?" she asked, and Denny nodded. "But why would he do that?" Denny just shook his head. A bolt of lightning-inspiration struck Lanna's mind. "It was a set up! I'll bet Robbie is trying to break Vaughn's relationship with Chelsea by pairing him with Sabrina!"

Denny looked down at her, "yeah, but why would he do something like that?"

Lanna raised her eyebrows at him. "Have you not _seen_ the way he looks at her? He's totally obsessed. I can't understand why she hasn't realized it yet."

Denny shrugged, "He's a crazy fan. You have one of those, too. So does Pierre."

Lanna folded her arms and scowled at the far off boulder, "Crazy fans like that admire from afar; Robbie's crossed a big line. He knew those two would show up around this time; he did that on purpose."

Just then a smile crossed Denny's face, "Well, if he did all of that on purpose, then maybe we should do something on purpose, too."

Lanna looked at her boyfriend skeptically. "What do you have in mind?" Her only answer was his devilish grin.

* * *

Reaching the hotel in which he stayed, Chelsea led Mark in, opening the heavy door with some difficulty. Mark, who had been silent the entire trip, didn't seem to notice. Thankfully the husband of the hotel owner noticed her troubles and helped them inside. Realizing that something was amiss, he offered to fetch them some tea from the shop across the way. Chelsea handed him some money and thanked him for his kindness. Vanessa, the owner herself, also noticed the commotion and helped take Mark to his room, kindly shutting the door behind them.

Mark, moving without assistance for the first time, walked through the room and sat on his bed. Chelsea pulled up a chair from the desk and watched him. She had come along to comfort him, but now they were here she didn't know what to say. Her own mind was still racing, running through what they had witnessed again and again. Vaughn said that he could explain, that it wasn't what it looked like, but then… what was it suppose to look like? What did he want to explain? Had he asked her there to tell her he was interested in Sabrina instead? If that were true she would forever regret bringing Mark along. But he had kissed her before he left, not on the cheek or forehead but her lips. She touched them with her first two fingers unconsciously.

A gentle knock on the door reminded her that Taka had arrived with tea for them both. He gave her an encouraging smile as he handed them over and left just as quietly. Chelsea walked over to Mark's bed and sat beside him, holding both cups of tea. She gazed absently at the floor. A rattling sound caught her attention and she realized it was coming from the tea cup in her right hand, which was now shaking.

"I can take that," Mark mumbled. Without further ado he reached past the left and took the cup from her right hand. Cradling it in his lap he fell silent once more.

"I'm sorry," Chelsea whispered.

"So am I," he replied and with a great sigh he took a sip of his tea. Chelsea followed suit. The tea, however, did nothing to relieve the dry feeling in her throat.

"What I don't get," Mark said at last, "is that he asked you to meet him there. Did he want to do that in front of you, or were we just early."

"No! That's not it!" Chelsea protested at once, "I… I don't know what happened. My brain is spinning too fast."

"Mine's turning too slowly," he returned. Mark sighed again, and they fell silent as both pondered the scene that had been laid before them. "Well," he said with a seemingly casual stretch, "what do we do now? It's not as though we can pretend we didn't just see that."

"We don't know what we saw," Chelsea mumbled.

"So then you're resolved to defend him, are you?" Mark asked somewhat angrily.

"We don't know what we saw," Chelsea said again with more resolve. "If it was in fact what we think it was, then I suppose that's that, and I'm happy for them. If it wasn't… well I'm not going to make judgments before I hear his side of things."

Mark turned back to his tea. "You're too nice," he grumbled.

"Proof at least that I'm not like my mother," she returned halfheartedly.

"So what you're saying," Mark began, setting his tea on the floor and lying back on his bed, "is if what we saw was just a misunderstanding, let's say one of them tripped, then life is great and everything's fine. And if it wasn't a misunderstanding, and they're a couple now, you're just going to let it go?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

Mark shot up, "So that's it then? You're not even going to fight?"

"Are you going to fight for Sabrina, then?" she asked quietly.

"Of course I am! I won't give her up to him so easily! I'm not going to take the coward's way out."

Chelsea gave Mark such a sad expression that he instantly regretted his words. "If a new relationship is truly what we just saw, what is there to fight?" She looked down and said more quietly, "I was always resolved to be his friend first. I never expected him to feel anything for me."

"But you did hope." Mark responded.

The knot in Chelsea's throat tightened. "Yes," she forced through. "Yes, I did."

Mark looked on her with concern. He couldn't let her give up on Vaughn, as much as the man's name made his blood boil at the moment. Neither of them could afford to give up. The alternative was just too painful. A new thought struck him.

"You don't think… he was taking advantage of her, do you?"

"Now you're just letting your feelings combine with imagination. You and I both know he's not capable of that. The man wouldn't hurt animals. What makes you think he would hurt women?"

"Well," he shrugged, attempting to riddle it out, "It's not unheard of. Policemen sometimes turn out to be abusive you know."

"Beautiful imagery, Mark, thank you," Chelsea replied sarcastically. "Alright, think of it this way; would Vaughn really try to alienate the richest man on the island?"

Mark thought on this a moment. "You're right," he conceded. "Damn," he snapped his fingers in a gesture of regret, at which Chelsea couldn't help but chuckle.

"Let's try not to make anyone the bad guy in whatever this is," Chelsea said in response. "You know you don't really hate him."

"You're right," Mark conceded with a sigh, "My brain knows you are. So then what _do_ we do?"

"Avoid bringing it up and hope for an explanation," she answered hopefully.

"And if one doesn't come?"

"Do you really want to ask them about what happened?"

"As a matter of fact, I do, yes."

"Then feel free to. I have enough on my plate without adding to it. My reputation is hanging by a thread as it is, and to top it off I'm secretly still doing work for my family's company."

"You're what?" For a split second his mind went back to the interview.

As though reading his thoughts, Chelsea sighed and nodded. "That's exactly what people will think if they find out." She waved her hand impatiently, "It's all just approving lineups and making suggestions on outfits; paperwork. It own the truth, Robert's been helping me with it." She held up her hands defensively at the look Mark now gave her. "He's really good at that sort of thing, and I don't have time to do it all myself. He happened upon me when the first of it came in, and he's got a really good eye for fashion."

Mark considered her thoughtfully. "You really do have a lot on your plate."

Chelsea rubbed the temples on her forehead with her left hand. "It's too much, to be perfectly honest. But what else can I do? Until another heir is found there's no one else who can do it but me. That company was my father's life; he'd be rolling in his grave if I just let him down. Sometimes I just want to break down and cry, but there really isn't time for that, so I just keep pushing forward."

"Keep working like that and you'll reach a breaking point," Mark said gravely.

"Oh I did yesterday," she said mock-casually. "In front of half the town no less, so I'm happy to hold the next one off a bit longer. I'll listen to Vaughn if he wants to explain, but I dread the answer."

"You haven't said what you'll do if this is a misunderstanding. If he tells you there's nothing between him and Sabrina, will you tell him how you feel?"

Chelsea shook her head, "I don't… I don't think so. Am I ready for a romantic relationship? It's not as if I have experience in this, and now of all times, when I'm just barely keeping my head above water? Now may not be the best time."

"Sometimes having someone by your side can make things easier," Mark offered.

"Or it could make things more complicated. I'm sure Vaughn wouldn't approve of my company side work. Maybe Sabrina's a better match for him… at least she's honest. My only regret on that score is you get left out in the cold."

Chelsea's mind began whirling once more. None of what they saw made sense. She had never really seen Sabrina and Vaughn spend time together. When did this start happening? Was she blowing it out of proportion? He kissed her yesterday but maybe… it was a goodbye kiss, or a thank you kiss. She shook her head; that didn't make any sense either. What would Vaughn say to her? The explanation she was hoping for but an hour ago she was now afraid to hear. If he was with Sabrina, how would she feel? And if he wasn't, what would she do? Mark quietly rubbed Chelsea's back wondering to himself when the comforting tables had turned.

* * *

"So you're sure she wanted to meet me out here?" Robert asked, looking around at the tall trees.

"Absolutely. She has some errands to run that will eventually lead her this way, or so she told me. She wants you to wait right here so that she can meet you when she's done." Denny answered, Lanna beside him nodding the affirmative.

Robert huffed from the heat and waved the front of his shirt to cool off. "Why is this island so hot compared to all of the others?" he complained.

Lanna giggled. "It's a jungle, silly. It's warm here even in winter."

"It's certainly no place for this," he said as he began to shrug off his large and furry designer trench coat.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Denny warned.

Robert stopped halfway. "Why not?"

"Dude, I told you to bring that coat for a reason didn't I? I overheard once at the diner that Chelsea likes that coat on you." Lanna was having a hard time hiding her giggle from behind Denny. Denny just smiled.

"She…did?" Robert said, sounding hopeful.

"Absolutely man, so do yourself a favor and keep it on; you never know when she's going to turn that corner."

"Good point," he agreed. "Well then, thank you for the tip."

"No problem, man; the pleasure is all mine."

"Well, we should go, I think she'll be here soon, and we don't want to get in your way," Lanna said with a wave, taking Denny's arm with her free one. "Good luck."

Robert waved goodbye quickly then focused his attention on looking for Chelsea. He began practicing poses towards the path she might be coming from, his back to the trees.

Denny and Lanna walked towards the bridge. "Do you think it'll work?"

"Oh it'll work," Denny said with full confidence. "There's no way he'll be able to resist that." They reached the bridge and Denny walked them to just the side of it. "This'll be a good spot."

"Are we going to wait here?" Lanna queried.

"Yup," he said, handing her a fishing rod.

"What's this for?"

"We're going to catch some fish for our friend. I don't want him to go home empty handed."

"Maybe he won't," Lanna added darkly.

Denny made a mental note of this; never make Lanna angry.

After a few moments and a bucket full of decently sized fish, Lanna stretched her limbs; sunset was such a good time go fishing. "How long do you think we'll have to wait?"

A warrior's cry pierced the silence, sending birds flying in all directions. "Not long," Denny said with a smug smile. It was followed by an even louder shriek that had they not known from whom it came, might have mistaken it for a girl's voice.

They felt a thundering vibration and out from the bushes bounded Robert, still screaming, with a broken off spear head stuck to the bottom of his coat. It was fortunate that Robert was screaming, because Denny's laughter was the next loudest sound in the jungle. Tears were in both of their eyes as they watched his retreating figure cross the bridge and head for the hotel.

A moment later and Shea came out from the shadows, looking around wildly, holding the rest of the broken spear's pole.

"Hey, Shea," Denny waved, still trying to get control of himself. Shea turned, smiled, then turned serious again.

"Can't talk now. Hunting," he replied. "You see it?"

"Oh yes, we saw it," Lanna giggled.

"Which way?"

Denny waved his hand dismissively. "You don't want that thing; it was human."

"That human?" Shea asked. He creased his eyebrows. "You sure?"

"Positive. He's gone now. Come over here, I've got something for ya," and Denny held up a fish.

Shea smiled and walked over, gratefully accepting it. "Thank you. But…why?"

"Let's just call it… a thank you," Denny answered. Both he and Lanna gave Shea a big smile.

The three of them sat together a bit longer as Denny showed Shea how to fish with a pole.


End file.
